Tumble Down
by Criminally Insane Hermit
Summary: ABANDONED. Bored in the time of his adult self, fifteen year old Tom Riddle takes a walk around suburban Surrey, only to have a black haired, green eyed beauty fall for him.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the edited version of the first chapter of Tumble Down. I realized that the first few chapters of this fic were in desperate need of revision, and I am looking over them. I'm not rewriting the chapters, because I'm lazy, but I am fixing some of the glaring mistakes. Please hang in there. You may not believe me, but my writing has actually gotten better. No, seriously, it has.

Disclaimer: My initials are C.I.H, not J.K.R.

* * *

Tom didn't understand why the snake-like man had brought him here, but he was sure that they were in the future. Everything about this new place was absolutely wrong. The technology on the streets of the nearby muggle village was more advanced than anything Tom had ever seen, and since he lived in London, that was quite the feat. Moreover, everything else was just altogether too _progressive_. There were girls wearing trousers, for Merlin's sake! Anything of that sort would have given the matron of his orphanage a heart attack.

Aside from that, the power he seemed to hold here was far greater than anything that he had had at the orphanage, or even Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, his largest reaches for complete control were always crippled by that blasted old man. Here, on the other hand, everybody respected him. It probably had something to do with snake-face, whom the masked people addressed as "Lord". Tom hadn't been given a specific title to address the red-eyed man, but couldn't help but feel there was a very important reason for that. He hated being left in the dark.

They were all living in Tom's father's old house, which Tom absolutely despised. He had never met his dad, not in all of his fifteen years, nor had he ever actually been to the house, but he'd done some extensive research and new that the dilapidated manor had, at one point belonged to his father. He vaguely wondered what Lord Snake Face had done to his dad, but he wasn't too worried. The ramshackle old house was actually a cool place, and Tom gathered some very interesting information when he hid in the shadows. Nothing to draw him to any conclusions as the when, where, and why he was, but enough to pique his interest, and leave him hungry for more.

TRTRTRTRTR

Harry rubbed his eyes; he had had a dream that was quite different from the norm. Normally when he dreamed, he dreamt of the graveyard, or of long, dark corridors with no exits. Sometimes he even had a nightmare or two about the ministry hearing. But this time had been much different. He had been dreaming of someone he was sure had been Tom Riddle, a little younger than the Tom Riddle he had seen in the diary. The weird thing was that Tom had been lurking in the shadows of a hallway in an old house. The part that truly shocked him was that Tom had been eavesdropping on a conversation between two Death Eaters. How was that possible?

With a sigh Harry stood in his tiny bedroom in #4 Privet Drive, and looked around. Nothing had changed. His room was still small, his clothes and just about everything else was still second hand, and the room still looked as though it hadn't been left for days. So why did it feel different? Why did it feel as if there was something new? Was he being paranoid? Or had his dream been real? Was Tom Riddle actually here in the future?

Harry needed to do something to clear his head. He put on his clothes and trainers, crept downstairs, and slipped out of the house.

HPHPHPHPHP

Tom stared out the window with a frustrated sigh; today's meeting of the masked people had angered him. He had attempted to get in, to try to get _some_ answers, and had been quite soundly rejected by Lord Whatever His Name Is. Everytime he thought he got a little closer to figuring out what was going on, Lord Bastard pulled him forcibly away from the answer! The few observations he'd made had been snuck, collected in the shadows of hallways. Even the slightest bit of information he'd been able to gather about the muggles had been witnessed from afar, as he was unable to leave the graveyard on the grounds of the house. The thought that he was prisoner in this house had crossed his mind, and he had questioned Lord Snake Face about it.

Flashback

"_Why can't I go outside? You obviously brought me here for a reason, but all I've done since I got here was sit around. It's annoying." he complained. _

"_Stop complaining," the man answered, no little amount of annoyance in his voice, "It makes you sound like a Gryffindor. You're here to learn, and you're here so that, when the time comes, you'll do things right. And I never said you couldn't go outside, just don't get caught, and don't go into Wizard populated areas." _

End Flashback

The answer had intrigued him, and it had taken all of his Slytherin training not to flush with embarrassment and anger at the rebuke, and at the tone Snake-face had used on him, which had made him feel like a child. It was something he did not like at all. He got up with a sigh, and silently thanking his complete disregard for the law, coupled with his boredom of last summer, apparated to the plainest muggle neighborhood he could think of, somewhere in Surrey.

TRTRTRTRTR

Harry walked down Privet Drive, his eyes slightly unfocused and his attention fixed on the ground, and as a result did not see the person gliding silently down the street, headed straight for him. He also did not see the crack in the sidewalk, as a result tripped, and went tumbling forward.

HPHPHPHPHP

Tom glided in his signature, I-am-powerful-fear-me stride, down the painfully _muggle _street, trying not to gag at the boringness of it. Maybe Lord Snake Face wanted to kill off all the muggle simply because they were sheep. He wouldn't be surprised. Tom, ever aware of his surroundings, noticed the person scuffling down the street towards him. Whoever it was had black hair, much like his own, which fell into their face, shielding their features. They seemed to be very short, with a petite build, but that could just be because they were positively _swimming _in their clothes. Suddenly, their foot caught on a crack in the pavement, and they went tumbling face-first onto the ground.

* * *

A/N: Alright! That the first edited chapter done, and I know it sucks but… Shrugs It's been too long since I actually _updated_ this thing, and I don't have the time to completely rewrite it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Alright, newly revised chapter!

WARNINGS: Slash, silliness, and… um… Oh Yah!... HANDCUFFS!

WARNING2: Voldie is very OOC this chapter, but there will be explanations.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't even own handcuffs. My Dad does though; I've never asked what they're for, because frankly, I don't want to know.

* * *

Harry's hand went flying up in an attempt to stop himself from falling, and it hit something that made a resounding _CRACK_. Next moment, there was a blinding flash of light, and Harry felt something cool slide around his wrist. Looking down, he saw a handcuff around his wrist. His eyes followed the chain of the handcuffs to the other the other hand, up an arm, across a set of expensive looking wizard's robes, and finally up to… _no_.

This was impossible. He hadn't seen this person since second year. Frankly he was terrified. _Tom Riddle_. He was actually more scared of Tom than Voldemort. Voldemort didn't look like a man, he looked like the monster he was. Harry could deal with him in a detached manner. When Harry saw Voldemort, he saw evil. But in Tom Riddle, he couldn't tell. He didn't exactly scream evil. Snobby pureblood maybe, but not murderer. Harry couldn't just deal with him and be done with it, like he could with an animal, because he was, and looked like, a person. Furthermore, he was an unknown. Harry didn't know what to expect from him.

But the part that scared Harry the most was that in Tom Riddle, he could see their similarities. They _did_ look like each other. As they scrambled to their feet, Harry saw that their defensive stances were the same. But most of all, the likeness was in their eyes. They both had that shadow of grief, hardship, and having seen too much in their young lives. For a minute Harry pondered what Tom Riddle had gone through to possess that shadow, but he filed the thought away, and took out his wand.

HPHPHPHPHP

Tom looked at the young man he was currently wearing as a charm bracelet. Short, emaciated form, baggy clothes, and overall shabbiness. Unruly, jet-black hair, and the most beautiful eyes Tom had ever seen. The other boy could probably be quite handsome if he tried. They shared, Tom noticed with a jolt, a few likenesses. The other boy had the same high cheekbones and stubborn chin as Tom, but Tom's lines were softer, probably because the boy looked like he hardly ate. And the boy had the _shadow_. That mixture of grief, pain, and hardship that hung in the eyes of few fifteen-year-olds. The shadow that Tom himself had.

Tom shook these thoughts off, as he realized that the other boy had pulled a wand out on him. Tom sneered. A muggleborn. Tom got his own wand out, and the two stood there, wands pointed in each others faces. Tom noticed the boy was rather pale, and glared at Tom with a look of pure hatred. There was also recognition in those emerald orbs, but Tom was positive he had never seen this boy before. Of course, if Tom was in the future, as he suspected, then maybe this boy knew the older him.

His thoughts were distracted however, by the appearance of a piece of parchment in the air above Tom's head. Tom reached up with the arm connected to the other boy, and caught the parchment. The boy didn't do anything, probably because he was curious as to what the parchment had on it. Tom was curious too, so he shook the parchment open, and with one eye on the other boy, and one eye on the parchment, he began to read.

It was written in parseltongue, so Tom knew that it must be from Lord Snake Face.

_Dear Tom,_

_If you are reading this letter, that means you have directly disobeyed my orders, and wandered into a wizard-populated area. Furthermore, you have bumped, (literally) into one of the Light wizards, my opposition in this war. The wizard you have bumped into is very powerful, if you are currently chained to him. The only one who can remove the handcuffs is me, so I would suggest you coming back, Light wizard and all. Actually, I would appreciate you coming back, especially Light wizard and all._

What the hell was Snake Face playing at?

TRTRTRTRTR

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was currently standing at the front of the kitchen in #12 Grimmauld place, addressing the Order of the Phoenix.

"Severus, have you discovered who the strange boy mentioned by the other Death Eaters is?"

"No. He does not join in meetings, but we are told to treat him with the respect. He is apparently extremely important to the Dark Lord. I have not seen him yet, so I cannot provide a memory of him."

Dumbledore sighed, and Snape sat down. The identity of this new player could be crucial to the war. Dumbledore was brought out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. A red-haired head poked into the room.

"Erm, Professor Dumbledore, sir?" It was Ron Weasley.

"Yes Mr. Weasley?"

"It's about Harry."

"Come in."

Ron walked in, followed by his best friend Hermione Granger, his sister Ginny, and his two brothers, Fred and George.

Ron spoke. "We were watching Harry," Here Hermione crossed her arms and huffed, looking cross. After the Dementor incident, Dumbledore had set up a monitoring spell, to watch Harry at all times. Order members and his friends would watch on a screen, and get help for Harry if Harry needed it. Hermione had been disapproving, and Ron still bore a handprint-shaped mark from when he had asked what was so wrong with it. _'It's an invasion of privacy Ronald!' _

"And he bumped into this weird kid. The kid was wearing wizard's robes, and I think Harry knew the guy."

Dumbledore frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, when he bumped into the guy, he looked kinda shocked, and almost afraid for a minute, and then pulled his wand on the guy."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows as the room in general groaned. Harry was going on trial in a few days, and it wasn't a good idea for him to be using magic. "Anything else?"

"Yes." That came from Hermione.

"Do tell."

"When Harry bumped into him, there was a flash of light. When it subsided, Harry was handcuffed to him."

Jaws dropped, and Dumbledore frowned. "Anything else?"

"Er, actually yes." This came from Ginny.

"The other boy was handsome, and he seemed… familiar, almost."

"Familiar?"

"Not in looks, but there was something there that was familiar. To me at least. Like I've met him before, but I'm positive I haven't. When Harry saw him, he looked as if he'd seen a ghost."

Dumbledore gasped. "Not a ghost… a memory."

* * *

A/N: Yes another poorly written, but at least edited for mistakes chapter. Urgh. Now review, and I might give you guys a _real _Tom/Harry scene, with handcuffs of course.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Okay! Newly revised chappie.

Warnings: Slash, silliness, and HANDCUFFS!

Warnings2: Chapter may suck so bad that it leaves people in various states of distress.

Viewer (er… reader?) discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: I have to go to the bookstore like everyone else to get the new HP book, what do you think?

* * *

Tom glared at the boy across from him, angry at the whole situation. He was trapped to some muggleborn, and in order to get untrapped, he had to hand the boy over to Snake Face. Tom was positive the man had no qualms with killing, and would not hesitate in killing the boy. Tom, however, did have qualms with handing a boy no older then himself over to be killed. He pulled himself out of the thoughts of murder, and pondered the handcuffs. Why on _earth _this boy had triggered the handcuffs, Tom didn't know. The note said that only a powerful member of the opposing side would require handcuffs, and this boy certainly didn't _look _very powerful. Of course, looks could be deceiving. Taking a breath, Tom decided to take the direct approach.

"Why did you trigger the handcuffs?"

The boy looked at him, startled. However, surprise was soon banished by anger.

"Are you insinuating that _I _made this happen?"

Tom was startled. He hadn't expected the boy to get so angry. He was also a little confused. The boy's character seemed to contradict itself. The overreaction of anger certainly screamed Gryffindor hot-head, but the way the boy had shown his anger, with narrowed eyes and a low, waspish voice, was very Slytherin. Most Gryffindors would just start yelling. Filing the observation away, he explained.

"No, but this note says that handcuffs appeared because I came in contact with a wizard on the opposing side of the war to the Dark Lord. I was wondering how an underfed muggleborn could be an important figure in a war."

This was a slight lie. The note had actually said that the wizard he was chained to was powerful, not important, but if the boy hadn't come into his power yet, he didn't want to alert him of it. Besides, power was often synonymous with importance anyway.

The boy glared at him. "First off, my physical state and blood type are not relevant at this time, so bugger off. Secondly, it's none of your business."

Tom was about ready to hex this boy into giving him answers, when the sound of multiple apparitions distracted him.

TRTRTRTRTR

Harry looked around, thinking it was about time that the people tailing him got there. He had been wondering what was taking them so long, seeing that the apparition of Tom Riddle and a pair of handcuffs would certainly cause need for backup. He glanced around, and spotted the person he wanted to see. Albus Dumbledore. If anyone could fix this, and figure out what the hell was going on, he could. Harry was slightly surprised to find that, even though this was a serious situation, not only was Dumbledore's eye twinkle going full blast, Dumbledore was refusing to look at Harry.

"Ah, Harry my boy. And Tom! I haven't seen you in a long time. You probably haven't the faintest clue what is going on, but I doubt Harry has given you a proper welcome. Welcome Tom, to 1995!"

* * *

A/N: I know. I know. Not only did it suck, it was short too. 503 words. Still terrible, despite the editing. Review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Alright!! New chapter!! Please excuse the excessive use of exclamation marks, but I haven't come off the high I got from reading the seventh book yet. I've already read it twice and inscribed my favorite quotes from it on my wall. Of course, now I feel rather unworthy of using J.K.R's characters and toying with them. She's just so brilliant. Whatever, I doubt anyone could measure up to J.K.R, so you'll just have to suffer through my writing. But luckily, my lack of talent is made up by the fact that we finally get to see Sirius!

A/N2: This is the revised chapter, but I left the note there because it amuses me. -Shrugs-

Warnings: Slash, Sirius (Duck and Cover!!), and HANDCUFFS!

Disclaimer: -Dances around, waving Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows around in the air- I finally own the whole series!! Er… Okay, technically the seventh book is my Dads. -Sits down and pouts- I have to wait till it comes out in paperback.

* * *

Albus frowned slightly as the two boys just stared at him, identical disbelieving looks on their faces.

"Anything the matter boys?"

Harry shook his head with a sigh and answered,

"Sir, only you could welcome a person from over fifty years in the past as if they were coming to a tea party, and admonish someone else for not doing so, at the same time."

Harry smiled as the people accompanying Albus snickered, and Tom set a scowl firmly on his face.

Albus saw the slightly hurt and confused expression that came across Harry's face when Albus did not look at him. He felt a pang of regret, but pushed it away, knowing that it was for the greater good. Tom opened his mouth, probably to ask a question, but Albus quickly cut him off.

"I'm sure you have questions, I believe we all do, but we shall have to take them somewhere else. Harry, I have sent a few people to collect your things and assure your Aunt and Uncle not to worry."

Harry grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "They won't."

Whatever he said, it caused Tom to give him a calculating look. Albus cleared his throat.

"If Tom and Harry could both grab hold of me, I'll apparate you to the place you will be staying."

Harry stepped forward, gripping Dumbledore's left arm tightly in his right hand, and Tom grudgingly took Dumbledore's right arm in his left hand. With a loud crack, Dumbledore apparated away, followed swiftly by the others.

TRTRTRTRTR

Harry gasped for air, thanking Merlin that the apparition was over. It appeared that both Tom and Dumbledore were used to the sensation of apparition, and Harry stopped gasping abruptly when he realized Tom hadn't reacted to it at all. Tom shot him a slight smirk, and Harry scowled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Dumbledore looked faintly amused by the exchange, and his scowl deepened.

Glancing around as the other people who had shown up with Dumbledore appeared, he noticed that they were in what seemed to be a muggle neighborhood. He was confused, thinking that they might have been going to the Burrow, or possibly Hogwarts. He was even more confused when Dumbledore ripped a piece of parchment in half, scribbled something on each half of the parchment, and gave the two pieces to Harry and Tom. Looking down at his piece, he read the words, _the Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. _The minute Harry finished reading, the parchment burst into flame. He looked at Tom, whose parchment had also incinerated, and was slightly relieved to find that he seemed just as confused.

Looking around at the houses, he spotted Number Eleven. Surprisingly though, Number Twelve was not sitting next to it. The numbers just skipped right to Number Thirteen.

"Concentrate on what you just read boys." Dumbledore said.

No sooner had Harry finished thinking 'Grimmauld Place' did a large house appear between numbers Eleven and Thirteen. Tom gave a nod of understanding and murmured the word, "Fidelius." Of course, the entrusting of a secret inside a single living soul. Dumbledore must be the Secret-Keeper. Harry shook himself out of wondering how on Earth he had managed to remembered that bit of information, in favor of following Dumbledore up the front steps.

When they walked into the house, he noticed that it was extremely dark and dreary. He was annoyed at the look of disgust on Tom's face, seeing how he had been living in a dilapidated old ruin, so he wasn't one to talk.

Dumbledore quickly ushered him and Tom through a door, and he was led into a room that looked like a kitchen, but could not be seen properly, due to the amount of people inside. Remus was there, as was Ron, Hermione, and various other people. He noticed Snape, and just as his eyes slid over Mundungus Fletcher, his vision was impeded by the sight of a _very_ large and happy black dog. Said dog wasted no time in knocking Harry backwards onto the ground. Of course, this action also knocked Tom over (not that Harry was sorry), and sent him crashing to the ground with a string of curses, behind which Harry could detect a faint hissing sound. Laughing, Harry attempted to push Sirius off, paying no mind to the junior Dark Lord lying next to him.

"Ah! Sirius! You mangy mutt get off!"

Sirius changed back, joining in with the laughter echoing around the room, and helped Harry up, shooting a dark look at Tom. Sirius then pulled Harry into a big hug. They were broken apart however, by a low, terrified moan that sounded from the corner of the room.

There, staring at Tom with a look of utmost horror, was Ginny Weasley.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you go. This chapter was 310 words longer then last chapter, so I hope you enjoyed it. Poor Ginny though. Oh well, next chapter should be soon. Review, or I'll have Ginny's overprotective brothers murder Tom before he gets a chance to kiss Harry.


	5. Nagini Interlude

A/N: Urgh. I always have such a hard time moving past cliffhangers. Which is too bad, because I love to write cliffhangers. -Shakes head- Anyway, this chapter is out later then I wanted it to be, and I feel like I've kinda cheated you guys. I always feel so bad making you guys wait, because my chapters are so short. It's just that the perfect way to end a chapter jumps out at me before I want it to.

A/N2: Nagini's bit is kinda weird, but I needed to show how she thinks, as a snake. So just muddle through it please. Also, for future reference, bear in mind that she doesn't talk the same way she thinks. She thinks like a snake, because she is one. But when she talks, she sounds more human, because she knows she's talking to a human, so she talks in a way that makes sense to humans.

A/N3: Yes, this is the revised version.

Warnings: Actually, none for this chapter. Well, I suppose I should warn you that you'll be taking a trip through the mind of a psychotic man's snake.

Disclaimer: -Walks into Metropolis, picks up a pack of Harry Potter Trading Cards™, heads to checkout- 'I'm sorry miss, you need another 1.50.' -Scowls- I don't even own mass-marketed Harry Potter memorabilia.

* * *

Nagini was a good snake. She protected her master, cared for her master, loved her master. He was her master, and she was his snake. His _good_ snake. But her master was not her _good _master. In fact, he was hardly her master at all. He had changed. He was no longer the smart, charismatic young boy she had helped through adolescence; he was someone different, someone frightening, someone… _wrong_.

That was it! He went from Right to Wrong! That's what had changed!

And then he had brought back his Right, her real master, and she had been ecstatic. His Right was there, walking with her, talking with her, living with her. Of course, his Wrong was still there too, but she just had to keep his Wrong away from his Right, and everything would be fine. How could she do that? She knew that his Wrong wanted to change his Right, and something had to stop him. His Right had left, she remembered, gone somewhere, she would go to him, and take him somewhere away from his Wrong.

Where though? There wasn't anywhere for him to go. Maybe she could find him a mate… But who would be able to stop his Wrong from getting to his Right? What mate was enough like his Right to be able to handle him, to be able to love him? Because she knew that love could keep away his Wrong. So, she needed someone who was Right, in the same way her master was Right, and someone who could love his Right. Had she ever smelled anyone who was like his Right? She closed her eyes briefly, remembering. The boy in the graveyard! His Wrong had wanted her to eat him, and while humans were tasty, the boy had been familiar… like his Right.

Better yet, he was a snake-child, just like her master. They could converse; he would be able to except her. She would find this snake-child, the mate for her master, and he would help her master. Yes, that's what she would do.

* * *

A/N: -Ducks rotten tomatoes thrown at her- I know! I know! I told you I couldn't write past cliffhangers! Don't worry, it's coming, I just decided to throw this in there. I've got this massive case of writers block, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'll be updating soon, and you'll get some answers, Okay? Review please, or Ron will come and strangle Tom with Nagini, Harry will fall desperately and stupidly in love with Ron, they'll have deformed, red-headed children that are all plagued with spattergroit, and Harry will become a bumbling fool to rival Fudge.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: -Throws arms up in the air to protect herself- I'm sorry! I know it's been a long time, but I have reasons! I had writers block, have clinical insomnia, and went on vacation in the mountains. That means no computers people. Anyway, I should be updating quicker. -Knocks on wood- This chapter is pretty long, and the next one is already shaping itself. I'd like to address a few things though. I had a reviewer who asked me if Tom was going to go all light and sappy, and I want to make it clear that _he will not._ Nagini is a portion Dark herself, so Tom's level of Dark is natural to her, while Voldemort's is wrong to her. I also got a few compliments on the way I wrote Nagini's mind, and I want to say thanks, I wasn't sure if you guys would like it. I also laughed at my reviews; they were more about the horror that was my review threat then about the actual story. I'm cool with it though; I re-read the threat and nearly puked. Hey, I gave you guys a treat though. In the first part of this chapter there is a sentence that, if read on its own, is _very_ slashy. Also, if you squint hard you will see femmeslash. Enjoy!

A/N: Revised, blah, blah, blah. Again, I kept the original A/N because it amused me.

Warnings: Slash, femmeslash, Sirius, and HANDCUFFS!

Disclaimer: -Looks around- Me? You think _I _own Harry Potter? -Falls on floor laughing- Right, you can't sue me, 'cause this me saying I don't own it. I will sue you though, on charges of attempted murder, because I nearly laughed myself to death, like that guy in Mary Poppins. -Winces- Ow.

* * *

Harry gazed at Ginny for a split-second, before coming to his senses and dragging Tom out of the room. He wondered how Ginny had recognized Tom, as she had never actually seen him. Come to think of it, bad tidings had been radiating towards Tom from all corners of the room, when only a select few knew what he looked like, or even who he was to become. Dumbledore had probably informed everyone, and in the subsequent hustle, Ginny had been forgotten. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Tom's voice.

"Who was that girl? Why was she so terrified?"

Harry looked round at Tom, and wondered if he should tell the truth. Tom looked to be starting fifth year, and the Chamber didn't happen until sixth year, and Tom hadn't made the diary until after that, but Harry didn't want to give him any ideas. He decided that the select truth couldn't hurt.

"Her name is Ginny Weasley."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Why was she scared of me?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What was he supposed to say?

"You possessed her."

Tom, sputtered indignantly, but before he could defend himself, Harry continued.

"In your sixth year, you were- are going to be- er… were responsible for the death of a muggleborn. You framed it on another student, but Dumbledore suspected you, so you didn't try anything else. You did however leave an imprint, a memory, of yourself in an old diary of yours. 50 years later, it fell into the hands of Ginny. It possessed her, and nearly killed her and four other students. So don't be surprised if you have a hoard of angry red-heads trying to use your guts for garters. Actually," Harry paused, enjoying the rather pale state of Tom's face for a moment before continuing, "You'll probably have all the people in that room after your hide, because I'm sorry to say it," with a grin that clearly showed he was nothing of the sort, "that your older counterpart isn't very well liked, being the muggle-killing, prejudiced bastard that you are."

Harry was rather looking forward to the fear that would creep into the not-quite Dark Lord's face at the threat. It felt so good to take some of the frustration and anger of the summer, not to mention the hatred of Voldemort, out on Tom. He was sorely disappointed however, when his little speech did nothing of the sort. In fact, it seemed to do the opposite. Tom drew his wand and advanced in the already minimal space between the two, only stopping when he was nose-to-nose with Harry, and his wand was poking, rather painfully, into Harry's chest.

"And what," he started, voice dangerously quiet, "do you think I should do about it. _I _haven't done it yet. There is nothing I can do to erase it, because I'm here in the future. Muggles may have been responsible for some of the foulest things that have happened to me, but I don't think there's any need to kill them! So maybe, you blaming me for things _I haven't done, _and being so horrible to meis what's pushing me to kill, what's pushing me to do terrible things, hmm?"

Tom's impassioned speech startled Harry. Maybe this wasn't the Tom Riddle he had seen in the Chamber. He realized that Tom certainly didn't _feel _like Voldemort. He didn't have the same presence. When Tom was angry Harry could feel the power that inspired many to fear him as Voldemort, but there was something about Tom that was distinctly different. Something was niggling in the back of Harry's mind, but he couldn't place it. With another sigh, Harry ran his hand through his hair and regarded the boy whose face was inches from his own. He looked so angry, and under the anger, Harry could see that he was horrified. Horrified at the prospect of what he was to become? Harry didn't know. Maybe this _wasn't _Voldemort. So what pushed him to do such terrible things, and become what he was to become? It probably happened while he was in the future, and more likely then not while he was chained to Harry. Suddenly, a theory struck Harry, and pointing to the parchment that was still clutched in Tom's hand, asked,

"What does that say, exactly?"

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny had finally calmed down, but she clung tightly to Hermione, and her freckles stood out on her pale face. Hermione had done the most in calming her down. She had wrapped her arms around the terrified girl, and crooned soft words in the red-head's ear. Whatever she had said had been quite effective in calming Ginny down, and it had also caused the younger girl to blush. Only Sirius noticed this though, just as he had noticed Fred and George putting a shot of fire whiskey in Ginny's tea while their mother wasn't looking. Sirius decided to contemplate, (and blackmail the twins with) these actions later, when he didn't have a future Dark Lord on his hands.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, eyeing the pale girl wrapped in her best-friend's arms.

"I sincerely apologize for not taking you into account Miss Weasley. I had forgotten, in the heat of the moment, everything you suffered at the hand of Tom Riddle." At her small nod of acknowledgement, he looked around the room, eyes wide and imploring, yet still retaining their twinkle.

"I must ask you all to remember that he is not Lord Voldemort, or even the Tom Riddle that Miss Weasley was coerced by. I am hoping that we can show the terrible things he has done, and the terrible man that he has become, and that when he returns to his own time, if he returns to his own time, he chooses a different path. We will inform him of all the things Lord Voldemort has done, and for it to work, we need to keep from blaming him. It is not his fault. We must not let him see the allure of the Dark side, as it is false, and there will be disastrous consequences if he chooses that path. Alright?"

There were mutinous looks on many of the faces in the room, particularly on those who had lost family to Voldemort. Ginny, however, raised her chin, a determined gleam in her eyes, and said,

"If it will stop people dying Professor, I'll do it."

Hermione mirrored Ginny's expression, and nodded.

"Me too."

Dumbledore looked relieved.

"Thank you. I believe you two will be needed to keep Mr. Potter calm, as he has a deep hatred for Lord Voldemort, and may not be able to see past that."

One by one, the other people in the room said they would try, some more reluctantly then others. Ron, for his part, didn't say anything, just jerked his head in what might have been a nod. Sirius stepped forward, a rather confused look on his face.

"Er, Headmaster, where are Harry and Riddle?

* * *

A/N: Review please, and maybe I'll put my insomnia to good use and write another chapter really quickly.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Newly revised chapter! Woot! But about last chapter, I know it seemed that everyone accepted Tom really quickly, but there will be clashes. Big clashes.

Warnings: (Er, there's not really much of anything yet, but I'll give em to you anyway.) Slash, femmeslash, Sirius, and HANDCUFFS. Oh, and a little bit of vulgar humor at the end.

Disclaimer: -Sitting in McDonald's, eating a pancake- I own Harry Potter! -Starts choking on a fishbone in her pancake-

* * *

Exchanging slightly panicked looks, the adults quickly headed out the kitchen door to go look for the wayward teens before they blew the house, or each other, up. Many of them hadn't registered Harry and Tom leaving, and the one's who had had quickly pushed it out of their minds in favor of comforting the almost catatonic Ginny Weasley. Now they were regretting that decision. Standing outside in the hallway though, they couldn't hear any shouting, or curses being cast, or scuffling that signified muggle-style fighting. The house was quiet.

Walking up to the first-floor landing, they saw that Tom and Harry were sitting on the ground, both cross-legged, and there didn't seem to be any negative energy flowing between the two. This was probably because Harry was currently staring off into space, running his hand through his hair and muttering wordlessly under his breath, as if he was working something out. Tom just sat there and gazed inquisitively at the thinking teen, a scrap of parchment held in his hand loosely. There was a collective sigh of relief.

Tom looked round, noticing them for the first time, and poked Harry's side. Harry jumped slightly and glared at Tom.

"What was that for?"

"It seems that those friends of yours seemed to realize that we weren't downstairs and have come to rescue you from me."

Harry snorted and stood up, dragging Tom up with him. Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Ah, my dear boys, it is good to see that you two are alright. We hope that you two will continue to cooperate with each other, until we can figure out what is going on with these handcuffs."

"Actually Sir, I have an idea as to what might be going on." Eyebrows rose speculatively on the adults, and Harry flushed slightly. Dumbledore gazed at him.

"What is it?" Everyone could tell that Dumbledore was humoring him. Harry scowled, but continued.

"Er, this might take a bit of explaining. Do you think Ginny will be okay if we go back downstairs?" Dumbledore nodded, and the group headed for the kitchen.

Once there, Harry gave Ginny a small, comforting smile, and then dragged Tom to the opposite end of the room, as far away from her as possible. From the thankful look Ginny shot back, everyone could tell it was the right thing to do. Tom also shot Ginny a look, but this one was a mixture of calculation and… remorse? The look vanished as Tom averted his gaze from her. The adults who had gone to look for the two teens filed into the room. Dumbledore smiled kindly, eyes twinkling, and spoke.

"Harry has a theory on what is going on with the handcuffs." More speculative eyebrows. Still scowling, Harry stepped forward to tell them his theory.

--A/N: I could stop it here you know, make you guys wait to find out what Harry thinks happened. I could… but I won't. I rather value my life thank you very much.

--

All eyes turned to him, and he looked rather disconcerted.

"Er, I think I know what's going on. Um, when the handcuffs appeared, um, a note, written to Tom from Ol' Snake Face," making fun of Voldemort seemed to take away some of Harry's nervousness, as everyone, except for Snape, Tom, and Dumbledore snorted, "Appeared. It said that when Tom came into contact with an important wizard on the Light side, the handcuffs would appear, and that Tom was to go back with the Light wizard in tow." Before Harry could continue, he was interrupted by the confused occupants of the room.

"That's impossible! You-Know-Who wouldn't take such a risk!"

"There's no way You-Know-Who could know Riddle would run into Harry!"

"The Dark Lord would not engage in such a half-baked, hair-brained, and utterly Gryffindor scheme."

"It must be from someone pretending to be him!" The babble was broken by Harry.

"Oi! I know it seems completely out of character for Ol' Snake-face, but let me continue. We know it was from him, because it was written in Parseltongue. I'm pretty sure he has a much different plan in mind. You're right, just wildly hoping that, if Tom runs into a Light wizard, it'll be one he can overpower, is very half-baked. He knows what'll happen this summer right? Technically it's in his past, so he'd remember. I think that whatever happened to make Tom into a Dark wizard will happen while he's here." Harry was interrupted by a stunned Tom.

"Wait, _I'm _the Dark Lord? I mean, I figured I was in the future, but, he doesn't look like me! Or even act like me. He's got a familiar, a snake, and I don't have one of those." Everyone turned to look at Tom, who seemed to realize he had acted rather Gryffindor-ish, and he blushed slightly, then smoothed his gob-smacked face into one of indifference. Dumbledore spoke.

"To answer your questions Tom, yes, you are Lord Voldemort. Nagini was given to you as a present from one of your classmates on Christmas of your fifth year. I'm must admit to being surprised that Lord Voldemort did not inform you that you were him."

"I'm actually not that surprised." Everyone turned to face the speaker, and interestingly enough, it was Ginny. She didn't seem to notice the attention, since she was gazing thoughtfully at Tom and Harry.

"Voldemort wouldn't have wanted anything to influence Tom. He would have wanted Tom to be bitter towards the Light, and not just be attracted towards the Dark for the power. Does that make sense?" Everyone in the room looked confused, with the exceptions of Harry, who had a look of pride on his face, Tom, and Snape, who both looked cool and indifferent. You could see the interest and understanding if you looked in the right places though. Hermione, ever the smart one, seemed to pick up the thought.

"Yes, I see what you mean. If power was the only thing drawing Tom over to the Dark, then there's always a chance for reform. You-Know-Who needs Tom to be heartless; otherwise he wouldn't be able to do the things he's done. But Merlin! What could we possibly do that would lead Tom to becoming Voldemort!" At that point, a slightly irritable Tom spoke up.

"_Tom_ is in the room at the moment." He seemed not to enjoy being treated as if he was invisible. For a moment, he sounded like an average teenager.

"As for what you guys do to make me become a megalomaniac, I don't know. I guess you'll have to watch your step." He sounded slightly smug. Harry threw him an irritated look.

"We're not going to wait on you." Tom rolled his eyes.

"I didn't think you would."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Mr. Potter, I do believe that your theory is correct. Is there anything else?"

"Well, if you're all done being so _flatteringly _disbelieving, and now that Tom's done being an arse (everyone sniggered), we have a few issues to resolve. Like, does anyone from the past remember Tom going missing for awhile? If not, why not?" It was a good question. Dumbledore seemed to have an answer though.

"There is not a lot that is known about the time-stream continuum, but it is believed that no time elapses between when someone leaves their own time, and when they return. This is mostly because when one returns, they return to the exact moment that they left. From what we can see, that is the truth." Harry nodded. Tom asked the next question.

"Does that mean you know how to return me to my time?" The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly.

"Alas, we don't. We will put every resource into trying to return you. If you stay here too long, it could start to tear at the seams of our reality. There are a great many risks to you being here." There was a collective gulp at Dumbledore's words. They sounded very ominous. Looking around, Ginny decided to lighten the mood. With a grin, she asked a question of her own.

"So, how are they going to shower?"

* * *

A/N: -Falls on the floor laughing- A reviewer asked me about the shower thing, and I just had to put that question in there. Okay, seriously, I know it seems like they figured out Voldie's little scheme too quickly, but just because they _think_ that's what happened, doesn't mean that _is_ what happened. -Cackle- I'm not too happy with the chapter in any case, so review please.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry tilted his head back, gazing up at the ceiling

A/N: In this (newly revised) chapter, we see a few questions answered, and we see new plots beginning to come to light. Oh, and the beginnings of slash too. Enjoy!

Warnings: So far not much, but I'll put 'em up for the hell of it. Slash, femmeslash, Sirius, and HANDCUFFS!

Key:

Speech: "Oh my god! She updated!"

Parseltongue: §"Oh my God! She updated!"§

Thoughts: _'Oh my God! She updated!'_

Disclaimer: I wonder if J.K.R. failed Social Studies…

* * *

Harry tilted his head back, gazing up at the ceiling. He could feel Tom shift beside him, and the other boy's voice permeated the silence.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Harry didn't have to ask what he was talking about. After the adults had managed to stop the two embarrassed teens from demonstrating their hex-casting prowess, and everyone had stopped laughing (Or in Snape's case, looking vaguely ill.), they had begun to work out the finer details of the handcuff predicament.

o.O.o Flashback o.O.o

Dumbledore twinkled over his half-moon spectacles at the glowering teens.

"Is it safe to untie you two, or do you wish to remain in your current positions?"

The boys were bound tightly together, chests molded perfectly, and gagged. They glowered harder. Dumbledore's twinkle brightened. Still glowering, they nodded in unison.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the ropes fell away, leaving the slightly flustered boys to scramble as far away from each other as the handcuffs would allow. Dumbledore's twinkle brightened still.

"Now I believe there are some things to work out? Miss Weasley has brought up an excellent point. I'm sure that the handcuffs have some powerful spells on them, but I'm also sure that there's something that can be done."

Dumbledore stood from his chair and ran his hand over the metal, muttering in a language no-one could understand. The twinkle vanished, and he stood back with a frown.

"The spells on these handcuffs are odd. They have a certain… quality about them, one that I cannot identify. They also appear to be keyed to Voldemort directly. I do not believe anyone but him can get rid of them."

"Couldn't Riddle just do it then? I mean, they are the same person." A witch Harry didn't know asked.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Tom has not yet been twisted by the magic Voldemort has performed, by the rituals he has undergone. Voldemort has been hit by the Killing Curse, and he shares blood with Harry, so his magic is actually quite different from Tom's."

At the mention of Harry sharing blood with Voldemort, Tom sent him a slightly alarmed, calculating look.

"I'm afraid they'll just be stuck together then!" The twinkle had returned.

Tom scowled and, in what Harry quickly realized was Parseltongue, muttered,

§"Stupid old goat's enjoying this."§

Harry snorted, and Tom shot him a surprised, quizzical look.

§"You speak?"§

Harry rolled his eyes.

§"Of course not! I haven't the faintest idea what either of us is saying right now!"§

Tom scowled.

§"Shut up."§

Harry snickered.

§"So Tom, why would Dumbledore find pleasure in our predicament?"§

§"Because he's a perverted old man who has fantasies about his students showering together."§

Harry burst out laughing, completely oblivious to the looks of shock and horror he and Tom were receiving.

§"You- are- so- twisted!"§

Tom smirked.

§"It's one of my many good qualities."§

§"Egotistical bastard."§

§"You rang?"§

A small cough interrupted their conversation. Looking around, they realized that everyone was staring at them. Most looked wary and frightened, and more than a few looked outraged. Even Ginny and Hermione had drawn back slightly. There was absolute silence.

Tom had been aware of the scrutiny, but he hadn't cared. He had been much more focused on the banter between Harry and himself. The other boy really was quite captivating. The way his laugh made him seem so alive, how those gorgeous green eyes sparkled in their mirth, how his light, teasing tone made Tom feel warm inside…

Tom mentally shook himself. His, um, _observations _could wait to be analyzed at a later date. What he really should be paying attention to was the look on Harry's face. Apparently he hadn't noticed that they were being watched. Tom switched his gaze to look at their audience, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

The youngest looking red-head male in the room stepped forward, his face an interesting shade of purple.

"You were speaking Parseltongue!"

"Your point?"

"Only Dark wizards speak it!"

At these words, Tom felt Harry recoil slightly. Evidently this close-minded bigot was a friend. He couldn't stop the flash of anger he felt on behalf of the other boy. These emotions were getting ridiculous! It must be a side effect from finding himself in such a bizarre situation. That was it.

Tom's thoughts were broken into by the voice of the Headmaster.

"Now really Mr. Weasley, there's no need to fling such accusations about. Parseltongue is a gift, nothing Dark about it."

Before the redhead could respond, Dumbledore continued.

"So boys, would you care to enlighten us on what was so amusing?"

Tom caught Harry's eye, and both boys looked away quickly.

"Nothing Headmaster."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, but moved on.

"Regarding Miss Weasley's inquiry, simple cleaning charms will suffice. Sleeping arrangements might prove slightly more difficult, but I suppose we could move Mr. Weasley in with his brothers, as their room is larger, and move the two beds in his room closer together."

Dumbledore paused, and his demeanor became grave.

"What I am concerned about is the effect this might have upon the upcoming ministry trial. I-"

He was interrupted by Tom.

"What trial?"

Eyes turned toward him, but he looked completely unruffled by the attention. He was looking at Dumbledore, but it was Harry who answered.

"My trial. For underage magic. I cast a patronus earlier this summer."

Tom stared at him, surprised.

"You cast a patronus?"

"Well, it was because of the dementors-"

Tom waved off the explanation.

"That's not the important part. You can cast a patronus?"

"Yes. Since third year."

"A corporeal patronus?"

"_Ye_- What?"

Tom huffed in exasperation.

"Corporeal. It had a clearly defined form? It wasn't just smoke?"

"Yes. It's a stag."

"And you've been able to do this since third year?"

"_Yes_."

Tom's eyes shone with an academic interest and fervor that most people only saw in Hermione. It was an astonishing difference from the usually cool, uncaring mask that he wore.

Tom suddenly seemed to remember himself, and turned his attention to Dumbledore. He was slightly disconcerted to find that Dumbledore was gazing at him, with what seemed to be reminiscence and remorse. The look vanished immediately however, and Dumbledore picked up where he had left off.

"I know a number of concealing spells, and if we do this correctly, we should be able to get Tom in and out of the ministry unnoticed. Hogwarts, assuming that the verdict is in you're favor, as I'm sure it will, will be trickier, but I'm going to start research on the handcuffs immediately. Hopefully we will have a solution by September First. Any questions thus far?"

Harry spoke up.

"Just two sir. What is this place and why are there so many people here?"

Sirius stepped forward to answer.

"This," he began, waving distastefully at the dingy surroundings, "Is the Ancient and most Noble House of Black." They could all hear the disdain in his voice.

"It is also the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, which is why there are so many people here." Before Harry or Tom could interrupt and ask what the Order of the Phoenix was, Sirius continued.

"The Order of the Phoenix is an organization our dear Headmaster started during the first rise of Voldemort. We help fight, but we're not exactly ministry-approved."

The boys nodded.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing attention back to himself.

"Now, if the trial is in your favor, we'll have to explain to your relatives about Tom."

Harry frowned.

"Why?"

"Because you'll have to go back there until school begins again."

Harry's eyes widened.

"What?! Why?!"

"Because you are protected there."

"But this place is under Fidelius, why can't I stay here?!"

"Your family's house has a much greater protection over it than this place does. The short period of time between now and the trial is alright, but after that you must return home. I know you have a few issues with your family Harry, but you really must be reasonable."

Harry's eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice dropped dangerously low.

"Well then Dumbledore, why don't you go to my _home_, and ask that… _family_ of mine exactly what their idea of protection is. Then you can come back and be reasonable with me about my _issues_.

With a final icy glare, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, dragging a startled and confused Tom with him.

o.O.o End Flashback o.O.o

And that was what led them to be sitting side by side in a cold, dark, dusty room.

"Come on Harry, you have to tell someone, and I'm the only one here."

Harry glanced at Tom, startled.

"Wow, that was strange."

"What was?"

"You just called me Harry. You never call me by my first name."

"Well, as this me doesn't _know_ your last name…"

"Oh. Right. It's Potter."

"Wait, Potter?"

"Yes."

"I've heard you talked about by the various servants running around Voldemort's headquarters. They seem to think that you're the thorn in the Dark Lord's side."

"I am."

"Hmph. Well. You haven't gotten me distracted from the purpose of this conversation Potter. What was that all about?"

"I really don't want to talk about it. I can't, not now, not yet."

Tom sighed.

"Alright Potter."

He shifted a bit, bringing himself closer to Harry, until their shoulders were touching. He was cursing himself for being so un-Slytherin, but a part of him just wouldn't let Harry go on without some form of comfort.

Eventually, Harry's eyes drooped shut, and his head came to rest on Tom's shoulder. Tom glanced at his watch, which he had spelled to glow in the dark, and saw that it was 1:28 am. No wonder Harry was tired.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Miles away, in a dilapidated old house overlooking Little Hangleton, a snake-like man reclined in his chair, a glass of wine in his long-fingered hand. He glanced over at the clock on the wall. 1:28. His face twisted into terrifying smile.

'_It has begun.'_

* * *

A/N: There it is, hope you enjoyed. Review please!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Newly revised.

Warnings: So far not much, but I'll put 'em up for the hell of it. Slash, femmeslash, Sirius, and HANDCUFFS! Oh, and a teeny tiny bit of language.

Disclaimer: Hmm. If I were J.K.R, then this stack of papers would be some of my Harry Potter plot notes. -Peeks at papers, holding her breath.- Science Notes. Hmph.

* * *

For a few long minutes after Harry's dramatic exit (complete with angry, confusing messages, slamming doors, and a bewildered Dark-Lord-to-be), there was complete silence. This silence was broken by a sighing Dumbledore.

"I had hoped that Harry had gotten past this silly dislike of his family."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Every year since Harry has come to Hogwarts, he has requested that he be allowed to remain at the school over the summer, stating that his family hates him. I have, of course, declined every time. I'm sure that it is some adolescent thing, and he really is safer there."

"How can you say that? They put bars on his window for Merlin's sake!" This cry came from the twins, and Dumbledore quickly focused on them.

"Pardon?"

"When we went to rescue him right before his second year, there were bars on his window, and he was locked in." George answered.

"Locked in?"

"There were about five locks on his door, all locked, and only his Uncle had the keys. There was also a little cat flap on the door, and he said that that was what they fed him his meals through."

"WHAT?"

Sirius' angry shout reverberated throughout the silent house.

"THEY FED HIM HIS MEALS THROUGH A CAT FLAP!" He turned his furious gaze to Dumbledore, demanding an explanation. Dumbledore, however, seemed to be confused.

"Why didn't you boys tell anyone?"

"We told Mum!"

Everyone turned to look at Mrs. Weasley, and she flushed under the scrutiny.

"I thought it was one of the boys' tricks, attempting to get me to go easy on them. I completely forgot about it." She looked flustered, but not guilt-ridden. This was surprising, as there was once a time when she would break down into guilty sobs because she had forgotten to pack a pair of Harry's socks. Dumbledore nodded once, then turned to look at Ron and Hermione.

"Did either of you notice anything lending itself to neglect or abuse?"

Hermione answered first, looking to be on the verge of tears.

"I-I noticed that he was uncomfortable with being touched, an-and he was always s-so thin when he came back from his relatives house every year. H-He always s-says how much his relatives h-hate him, b-but I thought h-he was just kidding around. How could I not realize what it all meant! I was so stupid!" She dissolved into tears.

Ron moved forward, as if he were going to attempt to comfort her, but Ginny got there first, throwing a rather territorial glare at Ron as she went.

"It's okay 'Mione, we all should have noticed something. But it isn't your fault. You know how Harry is. He could be bleeding to death, and succeed in making a person that he was perfectly alright."

Hermione made a slight choking sound that could be considered a laugh, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and flashed Ginny a watery smile. Dumbledore, however, frowned.

"And you Mr. Weasley?"

Ron shrugged.

"On our first trip to Hogwarts, he mentioned something about wearing his cousin's hand-me-downs, and a cupboard under the stairs, but I didn't think much about it."

"Cupboard under the stairs?"

Ron shrugged again, but both twins frowned.

"When we went to rescue Harry," Fred began slowly.

"-we picked the locks on his door," George continued.

"-and we had to get his stuff from a small cupboard under the stairs."

"When we opened it-"

"-there was, along with some old shoes and a truly hideous umbrella, a-"

"-ratty,"

"-old,"

"-cot!" they finished together, eyes widening synonymously at the implications.

And during the stunned silence that followed, the gravity of the situation crashed down on all of them.

"So," Sirius began, voice deceptively calm, "You sent _my godson_ to live with muggles. Muggles. That. Made. Him. Sleep. In. A. Bloody. CUPBOARD!"

The others in the room were suddenly _very_ glad that they weren't Dumbledore.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Harry woke slowly, his body unwilling to rouse itself from the first nightmare-free sleep he'd had since before the Third Task. When he did finally manage to open his eyes, it was to discover that he slumped against a wall, and was using somebody's shoulder as a pillow. How odd.

He sat up straighter, turned his head, and found himself staring at a peacefully sleeping Tom Riddle.

With a jerk, memories of last night came flooding in. Tom, handcuffs, Dumbledore, Sirius, Ginny, Voldemort's plan, parseltongue, Ron, the trial, the Order, his relatives, and, finally, himself, in a fit of anger, ruining all the work he had put towards keeping his family life a secret. A groan escaped him. Oh shit.

He glanced at Tom again, and found himself staring into groggy blue eyes. In the moment before full consciousness hit, the Slytherin looked almost… cute. Then Tom sat up, slammed on his indifferent mask, and the look was gone.

"We should go back."

Harry scowled.

"I don't want to."

"Stop acting like a petulant child Potter. I don't much fancy the thought of surrounding myself with muggle-loving Gryffindors, but if we don't go back soon, they'll come looking for us."

Harry flushed, partially out of embarrassment, partially out of anger.

"Muggle-lovers?"

"Yes. You have some incomprehensible fondness for those who are beneath you."

"What! There's nothing wrong with muggleborns! And what happened to, 'I don't hate muggles'!"

Tom sneered.

"Really Potter. I thought you had half a brain. I never said anything against muggleborns. A magical practitioner is a magical practitioner. It's the muggles that are worthless and lowly. I never said that I didn't hate them, merely that I didn't believe they deserved to die."

Harry jumped to his feet, trembling with anger, and Tom rose also. They stood nose-to-nose, both ready for a long argument, neither willing to back down.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Nagini flicked her tail in excitement . Yes! She could taste her snake-children in the air. They had been here! Recently! Together! This would be easier than she had anticipated. She tasted the air again, identifying other two-legger scents. They were mainly routine, though she could faintly taste traces of lemon and… Goats?

She shook her flat head and concentrated on what the magic in the air tasted like. There were her snake-children, both extremely powerful, but untamed for the most part. A far more controlled power was in the air also, once again reminding Nagini of lemons and goats. It was rather irritating actually, and she thought that she might just bite the lemony-goat-man if she got the chance.

The thought cheered her slightly, and she returned her attention to the magic. A powerful hiding charm was prominent, very large, probably concealing a house. If she had been capable, she would have rolled her eyes. Foolish humans, thinking that their silly spells could keep _her_ out.

Having found out all she needed, Nagini slithered across the darkened square.

* * *

A/N: Okay, a few things I'd like to address. In here, Nagini says that Harry and Tom are extremely powerful, and I'd like to say that it will be a long time before they are ready to fight, and it'll take a lot of work. Also, if you caught it, I'm building undertones of a split between Ron and Harry. Molly will also be taking her sons side. I'm doing this because I don't like Ron, and hate writing him, but it would be rather unrealistic and, I must admit, clichéd, to have ONLY Ron against Harry.

This isn't just because I don't like Ron however. It's because I need Harry to progress as a character, and be a little more jaded to certain realities of the world. I don't want to make this journey too easy for him. J.K.R did this by killing Sirius, I'm doing it by having Harry feel the sting of betrayal. It won't be instantaneous though. Harry's going to fight for his friendship straight to the end.

Sorry about this long rant-thing, but I'm trying to head off any questions, and prevent you guys from going running, now that I'm in such tricky cliché territory.

Anyway, review please!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Another newly revised chapter! Damn, I'm going through these pretty fast. The first few were painful, but they got better as time went on.

Warnings: So far not much, but I'll put 'em up for the hell of it. Slash, femmeslash, Sirius, and HANDCUFFS!

Disclaimer: I own a Winnie-the-Pooh bag in which I keep my Halloween candy. That's all.

* * *

Of the people waiting in the kitchen, Hermione was the first to wake up. There wasn't an enormous amount of people who had stuck around after Sirius had blown up at Dumbledore. (Looking around at the peacefully sleeping Headmaster, she saw that his beard was still singed.) Only those who were living at Headquarters, along with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, were still there. After Dumbledore had been doused, and Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall had given Sirius a firm tongue lashing, they had decided to give Harry a chance to cool down, and the other Order members had been dismissed. They had all fallen asleep while waiting for Riddle and Harry to reappear.

Hermione eased herself out from under Ginny, who had been using Hermione as a pillow, and frowned when she saw that the room looked pretty undisturbed. There was no for-sure way to tell, but she didn't think that Harry had come back down. Which meant that he was probably stuck somewhere in the house, with only Riddle as a companion. She had better go find them.

But before she could take so much as a step toward the door, the entire room was jerked awake by angry shouting.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Harry and Tom were barely five insults in when the door burst open, revealing a heavily breathing godfather, followed almost immediately by a hoard of Weasley's, an interested-looking werewolf, an out-of-breath bookworm, a slightly ruffled Transfiguration Professor, and a disappointed-looking Headmaster. Dumbledore sighed.

"Is there a problem boys?"

They ignored him, both much more content with shouting at each other.

"BOYS!"

Reluctantly, they stopped shouting and turned to face Dumbledore. Harry suddenly realized who had entered, and attempted to make himself as small as possible. But before anyone could say another word, a terrible hissing sound filled the air, and something huge and dusty exploded upwards from the floor.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Nagini felt dirty. No, Nagini _was _dirty. Hadn't humans ever heard of cleaning charms? This house was absolutely disgusting. And considering what her master- no, her _former _master- was using as his headquarters, that was certainly saying something. If it weren't for the fact that she could taste the anger of her snake-children on the air, she would turn around right now and get out of this awful house, and Kidunka himself wouldn't be able to get her to go back. But, unfortunately, her snake-children were here, and shouting at each other, and about to be cornered by that mad rush of humans. And- yes- there was that damn lemony-goat smell!

Suddenly, the shouting stopped, and a whole different smell filled the air. The one smell that was more repulsive than lemons or goats. It filled Nagini's senses as she tried to block out everything else, focusing only on where her snake-children were. Tom's mate was afraid, cornered, and it was her job to protect him. The fear stuck in her throat, her enhanced senses making it feel like thick grease had covered her forked tongue, suffocating her. Moving swiftly through an open door, she wound her way through a forest of legs.

How dare these idiot humans corner _her _charge like this? Couldn't they see he felt closed-in? Couldn't they smell his fear of what they were going to do?

She turned quickly, so that she faced the idiot humans, coiled the lower part of her body for balance, and pushed her head upwards. The top portion of her body rocketed up, her mouth open, fangs bared and hissing. She was ready to strike.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Voldemort swept his red-eyed gaze around the room, not really seeing anyone in it. As a small sparkle of sunlight caught his eye, he frowned. Ignoring the Death Eater who had stopped mid-report, he thought about how randomly he had selected this time for a meeting. A lot of his Death Eaters worked, and it was rather irresponsible of him to choose a time when any one of them could be missed. He reasoned that the fact that his younger self was currently laying the foundations of his plan, along with the ever-eager Potter brat, was probably putting him off form. He frowned deeper, again ignoring the Death Eater who was now sweating and shaking, stewing over what he had done to make his Lord frown. He shouldn't let such a thing shake him up, it was un-Lordly!

With a scowl, he stood up from his chair and made his way towards the door, waving a hand in dismissal to his Death Eaters. He ignored the now relieved-looking Death Eater, and slammed the door behind him, still thinking about Potter and his plan. If everything went accordingly, in the right sequence and at the right times, he would be the victor in this war. No scar-faced brat was going to stop him. All he had to do was make sure everything _did _go according to plan.

He glided through the halls of his manor, noting absently that Nagini was nowhere to be found. That was good. He had been a little miffed that his familiar would leave him, but after doing some tricky transference spells; the only _real_ thing she had been needed for was taken care of.

Of course, thinking of Nagini's purpose only made him dwell on the dangers of his younger self confiding in Potter. If Potter learned of them… Well, it would not be good. He doubted it was going to happen, because his younger self was just paranoid as he was, but it didn't stop him from worrying. Hmm, he supposed he would just have to prepare for that eventuality, however unlikely. And he knew just how to do it.

He slipped into his private study and walked around, pulling down any books he would need. It would be a tricky deception, but if he caught Potter at the right time, he would be able to do it. He allowed himself a rare smile. Yes, this would work.

* * *

A/N: Uh-Oh. Voldie's up to something. -Frowns- Sorry, but I have to go find out what. Review please!


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

A/N: I was reading, of all things, Bible fanfiction today. But this was not just ANY Bible fanfiction, no. This was Bible SLASH! I came across it when checking out a profile, and I couldn't help myself. It's just too amazingly ironic. I had to stop, because I'm not Catholic, or even anything remotely close to it, so the entire contents, except for the Slash, was completely lost on me. Who would have thought it would have given me the kick in the butt I needed to get on with this chapter? -Shakes Head-

A/N2: I tried to get this out sooner, but when I finally sat down to write the damn thing, my best friend wouldn't stop pointing out all the dirty innuendos! Not only that, but every time I walked away from the computer, she'd type in her own (R-rated) version. In any case, she gave me plenty of, -coughcough-, _ideas_. -Sound of whip cracking-

A/N3: A big, huge, enormous, gigantic, massive, immense, colossal, etc., etc., thank you to alxndra, who happens to have been my 100th REVIEWER!! Woot! Thank you again!

A/N4: This is, indeed, a revised version. The original A/N's amused me though, so I thought, "Eh. Why not?"

Warnings: We're getting the seeds of Slash here. Who knew Nagini could be so perceptive? Other than that, nothing much. Well, the craziness that follows Nagini, but what else can you expect?

Key:

Speech: "Oh my god! She updated!"

Parseltongue: §"Oh my God! She updated!"§

Thoughts: _'Oh my God! She updated!'_

Disclaimer: Oh, I wish. (That's original. -Snorts-)

* * *

Nagini's jaws opened impossibly wide, looking as if she could swallow the humans whole. She probably would have, had Tom not immediately jumped into action. Lurching forward with a jolt, he raised his free hand, and commanded,

§"Stop."§

Nagini paused, and turned to look at Tom. Her jaw snapped shut upon meeting his gaze, and, in an amazingly human gesture, widened her eyes innocently.

§"I wasn't _actually_ going to bite him."§

Tom raised an eyebrow.

§"Well, maybe a _tiny_ bite."§

This time, it was Harry who responded.

§"Why a tiny one? Last I remember, you had no qualms eating humans."§

His tone dripped acid that was audible to everyone, although only two of them could understand what Harry was saying. And it was only those two who could see, or in Nagini's case, smell, Harry's fear.

Tom tilted his head to the side, gazing at the boy attached to his wrist. It was obvious that Harry had had a less than pleasant encounter with Nagini in the past, but he was still stumped as to _why_. Why had the spell on the handcuffs deemed him as powerful? Why did he know Tom's older version so well? Why was this scrawny, quick-tempered, poorly-clothed, contradiction-of-terms boy with the shadowed, impossibly green eyes and innocently handsome face so _important_?

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Harry was trembling, partly with fear, partly with anger. He desperately tried to keep his fear from showing, but he knew that Tom could see it. He was too close not to. He glanced at the others in the room; they all had their wands out and pointing at Nagini. He desperately wanted to pull Tom out of the way and let them blast Nagini away, but something in the way her eyes turned solemn and mournful at his words made him do the opposite. He shook his head at them, and held up a hand to halt their protests. Only Ginny and Hermione lowered their wands, trusting Harry's judgement completely. He frowned at the others, but turned back at Nagini.

There was a moment during which they looked into each others eyes, and then she spoke.

§"Would you believe me if I said that I did not truly want to eat you?"§

§"No."§

Her gaze turned rueful.

§"I haven't done much to earn your trust, have I?"§

He leveled a glare at her.

§"No. You haven't done _anything_ to earn my trust."§

Before Nagini could reply, Tom cut in smoothly.

§"Are either of you going inform me on why there is so much bad blood between you two?"§

Harry glanced at him briefly, and replied in a mild tone.

§"Oh, it's no big deal. Well, except for the fact that she tried to _eat me_.'§

Tom raised an eyebrow, and responded in the same even tone Harry had used.

"Funnily enough, I gathered that from the 'I did not truly want to eat you' thing. What I want to know is _why_ she was going to eat you in the first place."§

Keeping his voice bland, Harry answered,

§"I don't know. If she truly did not want to do it, then I cannot imagine why she would anyway." §

§"Maybe because my Master told me to, hmm?"§ Nagini shot back, her voice finally betraying a hint of exasperation.

§"Oh, that explains everything!"§

§"Actually, yes it does!"§

§"Because your master always knows best right? His idea to kill me when I was one was fantastic, even though it got him landed as an incorporeal shadow of himself for thirteen years! Oh, and all of his attempts to get his body back? Absolutely brilliant! Well, there was the minor flaw of him failing every time but one, but hey! It's all jolly!"§

§"I didn't say he knew best, but I couldn't have exactly said no, could I?"§

§"Oh, and why not?"§

§"I'm his familiar! Everything I do is controlled by him!"§

§"So you're here on his orders!"§

§"I never said that!"§

§"You just said that everything you do is controlled by him! If he didn't order you here, then why are you here?"§

§"I'm duty-bound to be with my Master at all times."§

§"He's not here!"§

Nagini flicked her tail agitatedly at Tom, who was watching the argument with a deceivingly smooth face.

§"Yes he is!"§

Harry glanced at Tom, and then flicked his eyes back to Nagini.

§"Why follow him? There are two."§

§"In the event of two versions of my Master existing at once, I can choose which one to follow and listen to."§

Tom frowned.

§"Why choose me? You've known the other me longer."§

Nagini looked at him, fondness appearing at the sight of him. It was an odd look on a snake.

§"I know you too. My other Master doesn't smell nearly as good as you do. He is Wrong. You are Right."§

This time it was Harry who frowned.

§"Right? As in Light?"§ Something about this tall and handsome Tom just didn't speak of Light to Harry. Well, not fully Light anyway.

Nagini tilted her head.

§"Partly. My Wrong Master is nearly completely Dark. He smells bad. Wrong. My Right Master is Light, but he has Dark in him too. Like you, actually."§

Harry gaped at her, flabbergasted.

§"Me!"§

§"Yes you. You have too much experience to be fully Light. You are too aware of the Dark to be fully Light. Just like my Right Master."§ She gave the snake approximation of a shrug.

Harry wanted to protest, to say that he was nothing like Tom, that he wasn't Dark, but he couldn't. Reality had slapped him in the face. Tom had the shadow in his face too. Maybe that was what made them resemble each other; they were both Dark _and_ Light.

He glanced over at Tom, and found himself looking into jaded eyes. Eyes like his.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

'_That does make sense.'_ Tom thought. It would certainly account for the similarities he sensed in the other boy. Something in his brain clicked. He tore his eyes away from the green before him, and looked at Nagini.

§"Is that why you did not wish to eat Potter? Because we smell alike? Light and Dark, I mean?"§

She nodded her flat head.

§"That, and the fact that you two will be good for each other."§

They stared at her blankly. She huffed, the exasperated action looking very odd when done snake-style, and elaborated.

§"As _mates_."§

§"WHAT!"§

* * *

A/N: There you go! I love Nagini… -Sighs happily- Review, pretty please?


	12. Chapter 12

Tom and Harry jumped apart forcefully, the handcuffs biting painfully into their skin

A/N: Can you believe it? Two updates in less than a week. -Shakes head- I need a life. I've had the flu the past week, which means no school for me! All I've had to do around here is write. Oh, and talk to my Christmas tree. -Grins- Anyway, enjoy it. I'll try to get another chapter out before I go on holiday, because we're doing some traveling, and I won't have access to a computer. Don't hold your breath though, it may not happen.

A/N2: Revised.

Warnings: More slash seedlings, but they're still in the baby stages.

Key:

Speech: "Praise the Gods! She updated!"

Parseltongue: §"Praise the Gods! She updated!"§

Thoughts: _'Praise the Gods! She updated!'_

Disclaimer: -Hums distractedly-

* * *

Tom and Harry jumped apart forcefully, the handcuffs biting painfully into their skin. Harry had gone a brilliant shade of red, and it was a testament to the strength of Tom's Slytherin mask that his face didn't match Harry's. As it was, he looked rather green.

Harry raised a shaky finger to point at Nagini.

§"Obviously you've spent too much time with Voldemort, because your brains are addled."§

§"Obviously you've spent too much time with Gryffindors, if you can't see something that's as plain on the nose on your face."§ She retorted.

Tom shook his head.

§"Sorry Nagini, but I do believe Potter may have a point on this one. You're quite obviously out of your mind."§

She nodded approvingly at them.

§"It's good that you two agree. Mates should always be on the same page."§

Both boys sputtered. Nagini flicked her tail, a wicked glint in her eye.

§"Tell your humans that I'm not going to eat any of you."§

This sufficiently distracted Harry, as he turned to look at the others in the room, who were watching with suspicion and trepidation. Tom continued to glare at Nagini. Harry ran his hand through his hair agitatedly, making a split decision.

"It's okay guys, she's a friend." He glanced over at the smug snake. "Ish."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Ish?"

"Well, she's not going to eat any of us, anyway."

"Are you positive?"

"Pretty sure."

"_Harry_." Dumbledore's tone was warning.

"That's the best I can do, Sir. I'm pretty sure she won't try to eat any of us."

Tom nodded.

"She wants to stay here, and she knows she won't be able to if she does anything harmful to anyone here."

Nagini flicked her tail in annoyance.

§"_She_ is right here."§

Harry and Tom glanced at her, while everyone else shuddered.

§"And how exactly do you plan to join the conversation?"§

§"Watch it Potter."§

He rolled his eyes at her. She huffed.

§"I saw an old house elf on my way up. When you learn some respect, I'll be hunting him."§

She slithered out of the room, but paused to smack a sniggering Harry upside the back of his head with her tail. Harry swore and rubbed the back of his head, muttering about mad snakes.

Everyone watched her go with poorly concealed relief, then turned back to look at the two raven-haired teens.

"Where'd she go?" Sirius asked.

Tom, who was watching Harry with no little amount of amusement, glanced at them.

"Huh? Oh, right. She said that she was going to go hunt a house elf."

Hermione looked horrified, but Sirius grinned.

"Maybe having the snake here isn't such a bad thing."

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Once everyone had been resettled in the kitchen, Dumbledore looked gravely over the top of his glasses at Harry and Tom. More specifically, at Harry. He opened his mouth, but Harry, panicked about what he might say, cut him off.

"Hey Riddle, how'd you end up in my neighborhood?"

The question caught everyone off-guard, and despite the fact that it was obviously an attempt to side-track them from what Harry had said earlier, they looked at Tom for an answer.

"I apparated."

Everyone gaped at him.

"You're underage! How do you know how to apparate?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I _learned_."

"It's illegal!"

He snorted.

"So?"

Hermione frowned and cut in.

"I understand that it'd be untraceable in this time, but what about in your time? Couldn't they track you?"

"Only if I used my wand."

They stared at him blankly. He sighed.

"Not all magic requires a wand."

They continued to stare, but Harry tilted his head to the side.

"Like the animagus transformation."

Tom nodded. Harry frowned a bit.

"I suppose it would be the same principle, shifting your body to break a certain restraint. For an animagus transformation you'd be shifting through the bodily restraint, from form to form, and for apparition you'd be shifting through the restraint of space, from place to place. For that sort of thing, you don't require a wand or potion, although those things make it easier."

He looked at Tom, as if looking for confirmation. Tom nodded. Looking back at the others sitting at the table, they found that everyone was staring at Harry with unflattering disbelief. He blushed.

"What?"

Everyone looked away, slightly guiltily. There was a low chorus of "nothing".

Harry scowled, but turned back to Tom.

"Don't you need an exact location to apparate?"

Tom nodded.

"When have you ever been in Surrey?"

§"When did that become your business?"§

§"It became my business when you turned up in my neighborhood and ended up attached to my wrist. And why the switch to parseltongue?"§

§"The parseltongue is because I don't enjoy shouting out my secrets to just anyone Potter."§

§"Why tell me then?"§

§"I'm not going to tell you."§

Harry scowled. Tom tilted his head with a smirk.

§"Maybe if there was something in it for me…"§

Harry looked at him warily.

§"Like what?"§

§"Tell me what you meant earlier, about your relatives."§

Harry sighed, then shook his head at Dumbledore, noticing that the old man was about to interrupt them.

§"I tell you that, you tell me this."§

Tom nodded.

§"Deal."§

Tom looked around at those around them, who where once again watching the two teens with something akin to terror.

§"Let's go somewhere else."§

§"Why?"§

§"I'm not telling you in English, but I dislike being stared at with horror every time one of us says something in Parseltongue."§

Harry seemed to notice that they were being watched, and blushed again.

"Sorry guys. Um, excuse us for a minute."

Tom and Harry stood up, but Dumbledore stopped them.

"Where are you going?"

The two exchanged glances, and Tom answered.

"There's something we need to discuss."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Actually, there's something Harry needs to discuss with all of us."

Harry stiffened, but kept his face carefully smooth.

"All due respect Sir, but I need to speak with Riddle."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Harry, you owe us an explanation. We need to talk about your relatives."

Harry's face hardened. He had been half turned away from the table, on his way out the door, but he spun around. He didn't seem to notice that the action caused the handcuffs to bite into his already sore wrist, although Tom hid a wince.

"I don't owe you _anything_."

Livid green met startled blue for a split second, a thousand sorrows left unsaid. Then Harry spun on his heel and walked out, Tom a half step behind him.

There was a shocked silence, and then McGonagall sighed.

"Well done Albus."

* * *

A/N: This chapter kind of had a mind of its own. -Shrugs- Ah well. Review please!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Guess who's back! Yeah, yeah, I know. I've got midterms, okay! –Holds up hands for protection- Mercy! Mercy! Are any of you in Grade Nine? Yeah, well, it SUCKS. You know what I'm talking about, right? Here's the new chappie. This one sort of got away from me also. My plot has run rampant, and now I have no idea where it's going. -Sighs-

A/N2: Revised lovelings!

Warnings: You know them all by know, right? Maybe I should warn you, this chapter is confusing. Even _I_ went 'WTF?' when I re-read it.

Key:

Speech: "Praise the Gods! She updated!"

Parseltongue: §"Praise the Gods! She updated!"§

Thoughts: _'Praise the Gods! She updated!'_

Disclaimer: -Yawns-

* * *

Albus ignored Minerva's remark, instead frowning at the recently-slammed door and uneasily pondering the bond that was forming between the boys. It may not be apparent to anyone, not even the boys themselves, but Albus could see it plain as day. The way that they appeared to be on the same wavelength, the way that Harry so easily grasped what Tom was saying before anyone else did, and the way that they smoothly conversed with one another where all indicative of a relationship somewhere on the horizon.

It reminded Albus so much of his relationship with the young Gellert Grindelwald. The talks, the ambition, the plans, the companionship, the blissful feeling of knowing that someone out there would just _get_ him… _'The past is in the past.'_ Albus reminded himself firmly. He glanced at the door again. _'That's where it should stay.'_

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Ginny struggled to keep control of her emotions. She was intensely worried about Harry, but also angry at him. How could he so willingly wander around with that- that- that snake! She just couldn't wrap her head around the possibility that this Tom Riddle was different from diary Tom Riddle. How could they not be the same! Dark, enigmatic, handsome as hell… She couldn't spot a single difference between the Tom Riddle attached to Harry, and the Tom Riddle she had poured her heart out to.

She had agreed to help Dumbledore help Riddle, but she hadn't really expected any of this! She had expected Dumbledore to blast away the handcuffs, and then Riddle would be closeted away until they could figure out how to get him back where he belonged. But Harry seemed to be developing a sort of… rapport, with Riddle. They certainly didn't hate each other.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was no fool; she could see how close Tom and Harry were likely to get if they continued along this vein. She could even see them being best friends! Riddle didn't deserve a friend like Harry. And Harry, well, quite frankly, Harry was so starved for love that he would take companionship from any source that offered it. That left him very vulnerable.

She glanced at the door worriedly and unconsciously took Hermione's hand in her own. Hermione squeezed her hand and gave Ginny her, 'don't worry; we'll fix it' smile. Ginny bit her lip and looked at the door again.

'_I'm afraid that if things go too far, we won't be able to fix it 'Mione.'_

She clenched Hermione's hand tighter.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Harry marched into a vacant bedroom, tugging Tom in behind him.

§"Potter, slow down!"§

Harry spun around, glaring at Tom.

"What?"

§"We're here! That, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tug on these handcuffs any more than necessary. My wrists are rather tender."§

Harry blinked, then glanced down at Tom's wrist. Said wrist was indeed rather red and puffy. He looked at his own wrist, only to discover that he too was suffering in much the same way.

"Oh. Sorry."

Tom just glared. Harry shifted on his feet, his anger dissipating, replaced by an odd combination of tension, dread, and awkwardness. He gestured to a spot on the floor, and they both sat down. Tom looked at him expectantly. Harry took a deep breath.

"You first."

§"Me first! Why me? And use parseltongue, will you?"§

Harry rolled his eyes.

§"Fine, whatever."§

§"Good. Now, why me first?"§

§"Because my story will probably take a little bit more time to tell. Yours is just a straightforward answer."§

§"It's more complicated than that."§

Harry raised an eyebrow.

§"Oh yeah?"§

§"Yeah."§

§"Riddle, someone's got to go first. Something tells me that both of our stories delve into our respective childhoods. I already know a bit of yours, but you don't know any of mine. Therefore, mine will take longer."§

Tom scowled. After a long moment, he sighed in defeat.

§"How much do you know?"§

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Somewhere in the bowels of a decrepit old house, a snake was merrily feasting upon an old house-elf, completely oblivious to the emotional storm that raged just above her head.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

_Somewhere, in a universe alternate yet strangely parallel to Harry and Tom's…_

Unspeakable #4897, otherwise known as Lynn Merler, strode confidently along the Dimensia Hall in the Department of Mysteries. She didn't usually come through here, since the Dimensia Hall was a very dangerous place to trod, but this was the shortest route to the Directors office. Lynn worked in the Dimensia Hall, but at the end opposite of the Director's, and she had been laboring over one of the Hall's many machines, when a nearby black hole spit out a small object. Upon further inspection, the object turned out to be a rather ordinary-looking children's bouncy ball. A plain old child's play toy.

But this simple play toy was priceless to Lynn. The black hole that had spit it out led to an uncharted dimension. This little toy proved that travel between dimensions was possible!

So full of euphoria was Lynn that she did not watch where she was going, and subsequently, she slipped. She was just able to stop herself from being pulled into an untested transportation device, but she watched with dismay as her little play toy went flying through the air, straight into a rogue black hole.

Damn. She should have known better than to walk through the Dimensia Hall's Time and Space Relations Section.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

_Somewhere, in a universe that is actually our as-of-yet not-snogging heroes' universe…_

Unspeakable #3038, otherwise known as Jeoffery Bard, shuffled along the brightly lit Time Room in the Department of Mysteries. His head was down, and he shuffled hurriedly through the papers in his hand. These papers would have looked like complete gibberish to anyone else, but to Jeoffery Bard, or anyone else who worked in the Time Room, they were written in an intricately complex language, encoded so that no-one except for an Unspeakable working in the Time Room could read them. Similarly, to anyone who could not read these papers, they would have been useless. But to Jeoffery Bard, they were priceless.

For Jeoffery Bard was no ordinary Unspeakable, no. Jeoffery Bard was a Death Eater. The papers he held in his hands could be the key to the Dark Lord's plan. They could be the difference between success and failure. He needed to get them to his Master promptly.

Suddenly, Jeoffery Bard's feet slipped out from under him. His head slipped through what appeared to be a solid glass chamber. Jeoffery Bard just barely had time to register a rapidly de-aging bird, before everything went blank.

Various other Unspeakables rushed forward, attempting to pull Jeoffery Bard from the De-aging Chamber. In the hustle, the precious papers that Mr. Bard had been perusing fluttered into the silvery-blue mist escaping out the back of the De-aging Chamber. The mist, which was in actual fact the evaporated memories of the unfortunate victims of the De-aging Chamber, swallowed the papers whole. No-one working in the Department of Mysteries ever saw them again. Nor did they ever find out what information they contained.

And just feet away from the De-aging Chamber that took the poor Jeoffery Bard's memories, a small, ordinary-looking, out of place, children's play toy bounced gently to a halt.

* * *

_Somewhere, in a universe too boring for anyone's well-being…_

A/N: -Ducks flying objects- I know! It was confusing, poorly written, and there was minimal Harry/Tom interaction! I'm sorry. But everything in this chapter is important to my plot. I think… When did life get so complicated?

Yes, I am including quite a bit of the stuff from OotP, HBP, and DH. None of the _plot_, but lots of the conventions. Including Gay!Dumbledore!! Don't I rock? –Ducks more flying objects-

Anyway, review please! -Authoress suddenly runs off- Oh, lookie! A bouncy ball!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Newly revised chapter!

Warnings: Blah, blah, blah. You should know 'em all by now. I should let you know that I dislike letting my characters catch breaks. You love-and-cuddles types expecting a heart-to-heart better brace yourselves. -Cackles evilly-

Key:

Speech: "Praise the Gods! She updated!"

Parseltongue: §"Praise the Gods! She updated!"§

Thoughts: _'Praise the Gods! She updated!'_

Disclaimer: -Hums distractedly-

* * *

Harry was doing his best to keep his face smooth as he recounted everything he knew about Tom Riddle's past, but inwardly he was positively cackling with glee and triumph. He was hoping desperately that he could postpone the moment of truth. He _really_ didn't want to talk about his family. Hopefully Riddle would ask how Harry knew all this, and Harry could launch into the story of how he had found out. Actually, it was more like several stories, so it would take awhile. However, once he finished, Riddle didn't question him, just stood there with a thoughtful expression on his face. Harry's triumph faded.

§"Hmm, you know most of the background info… I can probably get right to it."§

Harry cast around desperately. If Riddle got through his story, it would be _Harry's_ turn.

§"Aren't you curious at all about how I know all this?"§

§"Yes, but I figure if you tell me, it could alter the course of time."§

§"Isn't that the point of treating you nicely while you're here? Changing the past?"§

§"Ah, but simply telling me might just give me ideas."§

Harry glared at him. Tom smirked.

§"So, as I was saying, you know most of it."§ He paused, hesitating. He grabbed Harry's wrist, tugging them both down to sit on the floor, managing not to irritate their already inflamed wrists.

§"As you know, I was raised in an orphanage. It was a clean and well-kept, but still a pretty bad place to live. A lot went on behind the matron's back."§

Harry refrained from asking what part Tom played in the stuff that went on. From the pained look on his face, Harry could guess. Tom looked down at the floor and began to trace lines in the dust. Harry had never seen him so uneasy. Mind, he hadn't seen much of Tom period, but he didn't strike Harry as the type to get nervous.

§"We all wanted to be out of there. It was pretty much kill or be killed. You had to know who was boss, and if you didn't, they'd teach you the hard way."§ Tom shuddered, then continued.

§"Not a lot of people came to our orphanage, since we were in a pretty shady part of London. If they did, they were all really rich aristocrats, who only wanted to show off how 'generous' they were, taking in kids who were 'hardly better than street kids'."§ Tom laughed bitterly.

§"I was nine, and the people who took me in were some wanna-be high-rollers, trying to show off. I could tell, but I was pretty much desperate to get out of there. The matron told them I was 'gifted', even though I was just different, the freak."§ Harry winced. He could empathize. Tom paused for a long moment, and the hard look in his eyes told Harry that he was remembering.

§"They took me back after a week, telling the matron that what I did was 'simply not natural'. They called me a demon child. Said I should be exorcised. Beat me with a Bible. I had bruises for weeks…"§ Tom trailed of, obviously lost in thought. After a moment, he seemed to jerk out of it.

§"Anyway, they lived in the same part of Surrey you do. Even after fifty-odd years it's still the sickly-sweet cookie-cutter neighborhood."§

Harry stared at Tom, who was currently glaring hard at the floor. He beat back the vicious monster in his head that was whispering that what Tom had gone through didn't compare to what he had gone through. Looking at Tom now, he could tell that telling Harry all this must be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Reliving is always worse than living.

He had no right to say that Tom's trials were inconsequential. Tom's older self may have set into motion any and all events that could be described as 'Hell' for Harry, but Tom didn't know that. It wasn't Tom's fault. Harry couldn't let his own bitterness get in the way of the empathy the other boy so desperately needed. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to know that people had only been able to handle putting up with him for a week. The Dursley's may not have liked him, they may have been negligent and cruel, but at least they kept him. And they weren't particularly devout, either, so exorcism wasn't really an issue. There, that silenced his inner selfish bastard.

That posed a question; how in the name of Merlin does a Gryffindor comfort a Slytherin? They could go on a killing spree, decimate something adorable. Are all Slytherins homicidal maniacs? Hmm… Maybe it's only the criminally insane that get perverse pleasure out of slaughtering the endearing. Do Slytherins constitute as criminally insane?

Harry shook himself mentally. He was being ridiculous. He glanced at Tom again. The other teen was still glaring at the floor. Harry ran a hand through his hair agitatedly.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

'_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!'_

Tom glared at the floor, hoping desperately that there was some way he could salvage this mess. How could he have agreed to do this! He'd just let out some of his biggest secrets about his life. He could not let anyone see him weak, especially not this messy-haired… waif! Ugh. The future was obviously damaging his ability to come up with a proper insult. He sounded like the matron of the orphanage.

He agonized over what Harry would do with the information Tom had let slip. _'You've been a Slytherin for four years Tom. You should know by now when to keep your mouth shut!'_ Ugh. Now he sounded like his Head of House. Stupid, bloody Snake Face and his stupid, bloody plans and his stupid, bloody time travel!

Tom needed to slaughter something, desperately. What would Harry say to a short excursion into London, preferably an area frequented by anything cute and fluffy? How much would it take to convince the Gryffindor to accompany Tom on a homicidal rampage? Do Gryffindor ideals allow them to indulge the criminally insane?

Tom shook himself. This must be where the whole 'Dark Lord' thing came from.

He glanced up in time to see Harry open his mouth.

'_Don't comment. Don't comment. Don't comment.'_

§"It's a long story, like I said, so get comfortable. It started in on October 31st, 1981. You- er- Voldemort came to my house, set on killing everyone inside…"§

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Tom closed his eyes, taking a moment to absorb everything he had heard, and keep control of emotions. He had been immensely relieved when Harry had just plunged straight into his own story, not commenting on or taunting Tom about any part of his own. Now he almost wished that he could extend the same courtesy to Harry. Awkwardness hung thick in the air as Tom turned over everything he had learned.

Harry wasn't a muggleborn, as Tom had believed. Come to think of it, Tom could vaguely remember a boy being sorted into Gryffindor last year- a boy with the surname Potter. That explained why Tom hadn't recognized the name beyond what he had heard the Death Eater's whispering; he never paid attention to silly little insignificant first-years. Harry was a half-blood, raised by his muggle Aunt and Uncle. The rags he wore were a result of said Aunt and Uncle not being bothered to take proper care of Harry.

Tom couldn't decide if it was good thing or a bad thing that he and Harry had so much in common. Stupid, bloody childhood. Stupid, bloody muggles. Stupid, bloody empathy. He glanced at Harry.

§"A cupboard, Potter?"§ He sneered. There, no more stupid, bloody empathy.

Harry scowled.

§"A Bible, Riddle?"§

Tom bristled.

§"Must have been nice to know that you were something those muggle relatives of yours could tuck away with the coats and shoes. Wouldn't want anyone to see you, would we? What _would_ the neighbors say?"§

Harry snarled, jumping to his feet, tugging Tom with him. Neither boy even paused to wince at the pain that lanced through their wrists as the handcuffs bit in. They each drew their wands.

* * *

A/N: -Cackles- I told you it wouldn't be pretty! Anyway, IMPORTANT notes about the chapter:

Harry's inner-bastard: Human beings are, by nature, selfish beings. We do not like to acknowledge that another person's trials are worse than our own. Harry is no different. He is just quick to snap himself out of selfish-mode.

Tom's attitude: Tom is unused to empathizing with anyone. It unsettles him, and he has no idea how to deal with it. Therefore, he antagonizes to get out of the uncomfortable situation.

The homicidal comments: -Giggles- I just finished reading the 'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac Directors Cut' and I could help myself. If you don't know what that is, it's a comic book. Google it. People with sick senses of humor will love it. If you do know what that is and have read it, good for you! Rise JTHM fans! Band together! We will take over the world!

Anyway, review please! I need you guys to come and bitch about my grammar; I think I made some mistakes.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Revised!

Something **important** I have to mention is that there is a part of the chapter that is written very oddly. There are what appear to be grammar errors and things of the sort. It's also very confusing. **This is completely intentional.** Any fans of horror books should recognize the style. There'll be more on this in the bottom A/N.

Warnings: For this chapter, no real warnings.

Disclaimer: -Hums distractedly-

* * *

Sirius drummed his fingernails against the tabletop, listening to the cyclical sound as it indicated just how restless he was. It was all he could do to keep from pacing. The room was absolutely silent; the only sound was the repetitive thrum of Sirius' fingers, multiplied a thousand times in the hush. The breathing of the occupants of the dingy kitchen reverberated around, echoing and amplified. The tension in the room was unbearable, like a rubber band strained to its limits.

Suddenly, it snapped.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK! WILL YOU STOP DRUMMING YOUR FINGERS AGAINST THAT BLOODY TABLETOP?!" Molly's roar, shouted in a fit of misplaced frustration, jerked everyone out of their stupor.

"Keep your shirt on!" Sirius barked back at her as the others clamored about and resettled themselves in their chairs. Lupin sighed wearily.

"Molly, Sirius, calm yourselves. I know it's tense, waiting for Harry and Riddle to come back, but we have to keep our heads clear." Sirius strangled out a slightly hysterical laugh.

"Tense? Tense! It's bloody excruciating! Riddle could have done any number of things to Harry. It's been too long!"

Glances were exchanged around the room. It _had_ been a long time.

"Well Black, instead of shouting and worrying, maybe you should go check on them?"

The occupants of the room turned to look at the owner of the quiet, snide voice. Severus Snape stood in the doorway to the kitchen, characteristic sneer distorting his otherwise emotionless face. Fathomless black eyes were fixed solely on Sirius.

The tension between Sirius and Snape had been more explosive than even Lupin ever remembered it being. Their fights rocked the house, leaving Molly furious, Dumbledore disappointed, and the younger residents of the house in awe. No one knew why though. According to Lupin, they hadn't been _that_ horrible to each other in school, and the rivalry had even begun to die down when they both worked with the Order during the first war. Now however…

"Didn't you leave?" Sirius spat out, glaring at Snape. His eyes locked with Snape's.

Suddenly, a curious change took over Sirius. The moment his furious eyes connected with Snape's disdainful ones, the look of loathing on his face shuttered, and he averted his eyes. The oddest expression came over his face. It was one that a few of the people who were around Sirius a lot had seen before, at moments of the day in which activity in Grimmauld place died down. It almost portrayed regret, but not. It was indescribable, indefinable. Had anyone been paying close attention to Snape, they would have seen a similar expression flash across his face.

The moment was shattered when Snape responded.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I need to speak to the Headmaster regarding a new development in the Death Eater ranks."

Dumbledore looked at him, concern crossing his face.

"Is it urgent?"

Snape tilted his head.

"It could be. In any case, it can wait until you're done checking on Potter and the Young Lord. I will wait for you at the school, though. I have no desire to stay here." His eyes flicked over the kitchen, the contemptuous gaze lingering on Sirius for a moment before returning to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore sighed.

"No, I believe I'll leave with you. Harry obviously has no desire to see me at the moment." He glanced around the kitchen. "Keep me informed." He swept out, followed by Snape.

No one moved until they heard the door slam. Hermione stood up and smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt.

"We should go check on them."

This snapped everyone into action and they all made a movement for the door. Lupin removed his wand from his pocket, muttering a quick, "_Point me, Harry Potter_", and then led the pack of people to the door indicated by his wand. He paused at the doorway, hand on the knob. There was no sound from within. No, wait- yes. He could hear a hissing noise. It sounded almost… chastising. He shook his head. He was losing his mind. Sirius nudged his back and he opened the door.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

_Flex._

Floating through haze, the papers drift along the swirling currents in the mist. The pieces-

(fallen apart yes all gone no no time to collect keep drifting must keep drifting can't stop)

-of information were scattered, but at the same time still together, and none of them were lost.

_Flex._

Suddenly, the mist was no longer silver. It had no color at all. It couldn't even have been called white. The parchment wasn't the same either. It wasn't even there. Yet, it was still. It existed, but it didn't. It was broken into-

(pieces in big pieces no little pieces invisible no not seeable that was the term yes but still there always there and floating through mist that is not mist but still is mist because it is not clear no foggy very foggy misty)

-infinitesimal pieces. They drifted along the currents that had not changed, despite the other changes.

_Flex._

There was another abrupt change. The minuscule pieces of parchment once more formed whole sheets. The currents were gone and the papers floated gently to the dusty, dirty ground.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

The doxy-infested curtain rustled and swayed, seemingly off of its own accord. Water dripped from a cracked pipe in the leaky ceiling. The droplets of water splashed onto the wall and floor below it, dampening the surfaces and making a habitat for mold.

Small humanoid creatures ran about the room, chittering in a way that could only be described as laughter. The imps moved around mischievously, crawling up and down the drapery and annoying the similarly-colored doxies. They quickly jumped out of the way whenever the venomous fangs of their victims came close to catching them. A few skirted the edges of the room, happily stealing insects from the spider webs that took up residence in the corners of the room. More still darted into a glass-fronted cabinet.

Those imps that were exploring the interior of the cabinet slipped past any objects that they could tell were boring or dangerous. They were looking for one thing in particular. Its magic called to them, drawing them in like fairies to an audience. Finding it easily, they gathered around it, intoxicated by the feel of the magic flowing over them. Then, as one, they reached forward to touch the locket.

A magic so much darker than their own minimal power swept over them. It was all-encompassing, tantalizing, and _theirs_.

With a great collective effort, they picked up the locket and whisked it away to a deserted area of the house. They set it down, heedless of the filthiness of their surroundings, and returned to staring at the locket.

None of them noticed that they were standing on parchment.

* * *

A/N: I love this chapter. It's got so much plot foundation in it… -Sighs happily- Unfortunately, when I was going over my plot, I realized that TRHP romance will be pretty long in coming. I'm sorry about that.

Now, I have three little **challenges** for you guys. I will write a one-shot with your choice of genre and pairing (No OC's though) for the person who

A) Is the first to tell me what book I stole the style of the middle section from. You have to tell me the title of the book and the author.

B) Is the first to guess what pairing I'm hinting at in this chapter, and whether it is a past or present romance.

C) Is my 200th reviewer.

Three separate stories for three separate people. If you happen to qualify for two or all of them, I'll only award you with one one-shot, and the next person to qualify for one of them will get their own one-shot. (So, for example, if you are the first to guess b) correctly, but are also my 200th reviewer, I'll give you your one-shot for being 200th, and give a one-shot to the next person to guess b) correctly.) Tell me what pairing and genre you want when you review.

Review please!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Here's the chapter! If you guys saw in the summary, I am going to be doing some much-needed renovation of my story, and it (along with RL) is throwing a wrench into the works. I'm trying though! Anyway, a big thanks to everyone who reviewed. I don't say this enough, but you guys are awesome.

Contest Winners: Congratulations to Hasufel (Part A), Suzannah Wyatt (Part B), and Silver Tears 11 (Part C) for winning the challenge from last chapter! I'm working on the one-shots, but I figured you guys would prefer this chapter.

Betaing: I have finally gotten a beta! We're having technical difficulties, so this chapter _isn't_ beta'd, but when we work things out I'll replace it with the beta'd version. So, mucho thanks to the phenomenal DarkSiren929!

Warnings: None for this chapter, but if you spot any, feel free to bash me. (That's a figure of speech!)

Disclaimer: Ho-hum

* * *

"Harry, are you in here?"

"No, Harry died of boredom hours ago."

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, heading over to the corner of the Black family library that they had heard Harry's sullen voice float from. Rounding the corner of a teetering pile of dusty old books, they spotted Harry and Riddle sitting at a small table. Harry was sprawled out on a chair, a wand in his right hand, shooting sparks at fruit flies as they buzzed past. His other arm disappeared behind a tower of books, obviously attached to Riddle, who was also hidden behind multiple stacks of books. Riddle's voice came sharply from his barricade of literature.

"You could _help_, you know."

"I _tried_, if you remember. You kept snatching the books from me whenever I thought I'd gotten something. I gave up after you nearly ripped my arm from its socket."

The two boys had been at each others throats since their chat. When Lupin and the others had walked in, Harry and Tom had been trapped in Nagini's coils. Upon questioning, all that the boys said was that she had been chastising them for fighting. They wouldn't say what about, but the tension between the two had been palpable ever since, making settling in difficult.

Hermione and Ron sat gingerly on the only two free chairs that weren't covered in mold. Hermione shot a curious glance in Tom's general direction.

"What are you guys doing?"

Harry opened his mouth, but Riddle's inaudible voice reached her first. Harry rolled his eyes and waved the wand, floating the books off the table. Riddle, now visible, glared at him.

"Oi! I was using those."

"You've already flipped through them about five times a piece."

"Well Potter, _research_ often requires _references_. I need those books!"

"They're right there! Just-"

Hermione interrupted the rest of Harry's retort with a small cough. Harry and Riddle jumped, as if they had forgotten that Hermione and Ron were there.

"Riddle here is researching the intricacies of the spells on these blasted handcuffs. I am frying flies."

"How are you using magic?" Ron asked.

Hermione answered before Harry could. "The Fidelius and other charms on the house pretty much make this house completely invisible. As far as the Ministry is concerned, the house and everyone in it don't exist. They can't sense that Harry is using magic."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because," Hermione said, glaring at Harry, "We aren't supposed to abuse the privilege. We're not even supposed to know."

Harry shrugged. "It was in one of the books I was reading." He waved his hand in the general direction of said books.

"That doesn't mean you, of all people, should be using magic!"

"Hermione, I don't use it often, calm down." Harry soothed. Hermione glared harder. Harry sighed.

"Look," He slipped his wand into his pocket, "I'm putting it away, see?"

Hermione's face softened at the irritated tone of his voice, and she placed a hand on his arm. "I'm just looking out for you Harry. I don't want you to get in any more trouble."

He gave her a small, strained smile, and she beamed. Ron glared at the interaction, while Riddle sneered. Hermione turned her attention to him.

"Why are you looking up the spells on the handcuffs? Dumbledore said that there was nothing that could be done."

Riddle snorted. "Forgive me, but I don't particularly care what Dumbledore said. He's not always right."

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to defend the Headmaster, but Harry interrupted.

"Let's get out of here. We've been researching for hours, and the air in here is more dust than oxygen. Come on, Riddle, we've got the rest of the summer to try and disprove the Headmasters conclusion."

Riddle glared at him mutinously, and Harry glowered back. Hermione and Ron shifted uncomfortably as the air in the room seemed to thicken with tension. Perspiration broke out on Hermione's forehead, as if the temperature had suddenly shot up. She felt pressure building behind her eyes, like a giant hand had clenched around her brain. Complementing the pain in her head was a tightly winding sensation of heat behind her navel, akin to the red-hot coils of a stove. She felt her whole body tingling with foreign energy that filled the fleshy confines of her body to the brim. When she glanced over at Ron, he looked as if he too was suffering the same afflictions as she. Harry and Riddle appeared unaffected, but as she watched, Riddle's eyes widened in shock. He tore his gaze from Harry's-

-and the spell broke. Hermione gulped in dusty air, only now realizing that she hadn't been breathing. All that was left of the incident was a bone-deep tiredness, like the alien energy had taken all of hers along with it when it had left.

Riddle stood up, closing his book and tucking it under his arm as he went. Harry grinned. He knew he had won this round.

As Hermione followed the three boys out of the room, she noticed that Ron seemed a little unsteady on his feat. Riddle too, seemed out of sorts, and a worried frown found its way onto his face. Harry also noticed the change in his companions, but the looks he gave them were curious, not empathetic. Whatever had just passed in the library, Harry alone seemed exempt.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

When Ginny, Fred, and George heard the door to the sitting room open, they assumed that it was one of the adults popping in to check on them, so none of them glanced up from their game of Exploding Snap.

"What's that?"

Harry was over by the door, Riddle beside him and Ron and Hermione following the black-haired duo. Harry was looking curiously at a large black square on the wall. The surface was shiny, almost to the point of being reflective, and once or twice the surface would appear to undulate. Riddle looked curious too, although he was attempting to hide it.

Ginny glanced at her exchanged looks with her brothers. Nobody had told Harry about the monitoring screen that Dumbledore had set up, fearing that he would take it about as well as Hermione had. Dumbledore hadn't been to Grimmauld since the day after Harry and Tom had arrived, and had yet to remove the spell. Nobody else knew how. Ginny's mum had had all the kids, even Tom Riddle (to the general amusement of the other residents of Grimmauld Place), cleaning, and since the sitting room had been done at the beginning of the summer, there had been no reason for Harry to enter it.

But now he was here, with Riddle, and inquisitively examining the screen.

Oh dear.

Ginny smiled nervously, "It uh- Well… It, ah- That is to say- Erm… It's a -"

"Monitoring system."

Harry glanced at Riddle, eyebrows knitting into a frown. "A monitoring system?"

Riddle nodded, taking out his wand and poking the black square with it, creating a small dent that smoothed itself when Riddle removed the pressure. "A pretty advanced one too. It's keyed to one specific person, and, once activated, will show exactly what that person is doing, at the exact moment they're doing it."

Realization crept into Harry's expression. "Who's it keyed to?"

Riddle shrugged, but Ginny saw the others shrink. She attempted to make herself as small as possible. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Guys, who is it keyed to?"

No answer. Harry sighed.

"It's me, isn't it?"

Nods.

"And it watched me around the clock?"

More nods.

Ginny darted forward and grabbed his arm. "Harry, it was just because the Order guards- that wretched Mundungus- failed to protect you when following you manually. Dumbledore thought it'd be better if we watched you, and then reported to him if we saw anything out of the ordinary."

Harry shook off her hand and moved to give the screen a closer examination. Riddle, not having any other choice, followed him.

"So in essence," Harry began, tone of voice deceptively calm, "Dumbledore decided to invade my privacy, and betray my trust, 'for my own good', correct?"

Ginny muttered an affirmative. At least he wasn't shouting. Harry turned to face everyone. His face appeared completely apathetic to his own evaluation of the situation. He shrugged his shoulders uncaringly, as if he accepted that there was nothing that he could do to change the situation. Ginny and the others breathed a collective sigh of relief.

That was when the serenely rippling square of monitorial magic exploded.

* * *

A/N: Review please!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Oh great Goddess, it's a post! Trust me; I'm as shocked by this as you all are. :D Listen, I have a million different explanations for why I've been gone for so long, but I'd rather not waste space on them. School is out, I'm not going on any (long) vacations, I'm done editing, and updates will pick up. Maybe I'll even manage to swing one a week. I've gotten a plot outline typed out, so I know exactly where I'm going. Hope you enjoy.

A/N2: I'm taking a moment to recomend an amazing story to you all. It's an LVHP by Emriel, and it's called 'Masquerade of the Damned'. Emri is a phenomenal writer, and her story is extraordinarily good, but hasn't gotten the feedback it deserves. It's currently in the preslash stages, but I've been given the honour of viewing the whole plot outline, and let me tell you it's going to be epic. Go read, now. :D

Dedications: To my lovely beta, DarkSiren929, who gave me the kick in the butt to write out that plot outline. I'm sad that our arrangement didn't work out, but I wish you luck on all that's going on in your life. To the anonymous reviewer **Me**, I loved reading all your fantastic comments. I just wish I had been able to respond directly to your review. Thank you! Finally, to my amazing readers and reviewers, I adore you.

Warnings: Strangeness, mention of bleeding wounds, but no detail.

Disclaimer: Oh, really. Is this necessary?

* * *

Laughter resonated around the small, dimly lit kitchen. Sirius sat at the worn table, directly across from Remus, who was sitting next to Arthur. Molly stood at the counter, fixing tea. Later, when asked to recount the rare, mirthful moment of calm, none of the four would be able to remember why they had been laughing.

The explosion was gradual. It started with a low rumbling that reverberated through the magical cores of the kitchen's occupants, rather than through their physical selves. For a moment it was if their good humor had crossed over into their magic, shaking their inner power as easily as laughter shook their bodies. Shortly though, the occurrence was identifiable for what it was. Only a fully trained witch or wizard would have likely been able to feel it, but to the four adults, it was immediately recognizable as a swell of immense power.

_CRASH!_

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Madame Pomfrey removed the apron from around her waist tiredly, stepping out from behind the curtain with a sigh. Immediately, the mob of adults waiting anxiously for her diagnosis converged on her, desperate to hear that their children would be alright. Overwhelmed by the rapidly asked questions, she wasted none of what little energy she had left on being diplomatic. She silenced the group with a fierce glare. It was this that finally tipped them off to her exhaustion, and she nodded gratefully to Severus when he conjured a chair for her.

Sinking into it, she took a few minutes to relax her body and catch her breath. Maybe Minerva's insistence that she needed an assistant wasn't as ridiculous as she'd first thought it was… Shaking off the thoughts, she focused on the anticipatory looks on the faces of those surrounding her. With another sigh, she began.

"Misters Weasley, Weasley, and Weasley have already awakened and bombarded me with questions, though they are now asleep. They should be good to leave and wreak havoc at the end of today. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley are a little worse off, but both should be fit to leave tomorrow. It's Misters Potter and Riddle that have me the most worried though."

She fell into a pensive silence, turning over the condition of the two raven-haired teens in her mind. Such an extraordinary circumstance…

"Poppy?"

She glanced up at the Headmaster, who had roused her from her thoughts. She glanced at the apprehensive faces around her. Once more, she sighed.

"I think you'd all better sit down…"

TRHPTRHPTRHP

Everything was… cold. Well, not cold, exactly. Rather, it was… distant. Tom felt completely removed from his surroundings, from his own body. He looked down at himself. He was bleeding. Heavily.

Huh.

He was vaguely aware of pain. It was more of a… tickle, a light brush of pain that, like everything, felt unreal and far away. He had the ominous notion that later he would feel the pain full-force. But at that moment, he was fine.

In the back of his mind he was aware of shouts and screams and the splintering of wood, but he focused his attention on the matter at hand. Namely, the large wall before him. It was black, with blazing sliver runes that appeared for split-seconds, shining so brightly that they cut through the numbness surrounding Tom and forced him to cover his eyes. They emerged on the surface of the wall for miniscule fractions of a moment, dissolving back into the blackness before Tom could make any sense of them.

He stepped toward the wall, reaching his hand forward to touch a shining rune. He was a hairs-breadth away when his common sense caught up with him, and he withdrew his hand sharply. This close, and no longer distracted by the runes, he could see that the wall was bulging, as if it were holding something large and powerful back. He stepped backwards, his gaze traveling up the smooth surface to reach the top of the wall. There he could see strands of burgundy… liquid, for lack of a better word, peeking over the top of the black wall.

The burgundy… substance shone as brightly as the runes, brighter even, but possessed a solidity and fluidity that made it appear to be a liquid of some sort. Its color was deep and rich, so dark that at times it appeared black. Unlike the runes, looking at it did not pain his eyes. Rather, it filled him with joy, awe, and a powerful sense of possession. Whatever this liquid was, he had to get to it, for he knew that without a doubt, it was his.

A presence at his back made him turn around. By this point the vague, detached feelings of pain and chaos that he had been experiencing earlier had faded completely, replaced by the lingering sensations instilled in him by the burgundy substance. Now, as he looked at the royal blue mist rolling towards him, a warm sense of comfort and belonging welled up in his chest. This mist did not feel as though it were his in the same way the burgundy liquid felt like it was his, but it felt similar. He felt as though the mist belonged to someone extremely close to him. Someone he cared for, trusted, _lo_-

The mist rolled past Tom, parting easily around the obstruction his body presented. Less easy to slip past was the massive black wall, which stretched in either direction as far as Tom could see. Not to be deterred, the mist rolled straight up the side of the wall. As it neared the burgundy substance, Tom felt anticipation rise within him. Something was going to happen, he could feel it.

A tendril of royal blue shot upward to meet a strand of burgundy, and Tom held his breath, waiting for them to come into contact.

When they did, his vision filled with brilliant forest green light. Ignoring the fact that the color of the light was illogical, seeing how burgundy and blue did _not_ make green, Tom watched eagerly for more interaction between the two substances. While the following meetings of blue and burgundy did not result in sparks as brilliant as the initial one, each one was accompanied by a thrum of power that was greater than the last.

Tom could feel the ground below him shaking, but was paying avid attention to the crumbling black wall. Just… one… more…

With an earthshaking crash, the wall fell, and burgundy liquid rushed forward. Tom only had time to register the disappearance of the blue mist before he was engulfed.

TRHPTRHPTRHP

The silence inside the hospital wing was thick and heavy, filled with shocked disbelief.

"You can't possibly be serious Poppy."

The worn-looking mediwitch nodded her head gravely in response to Minerva's question.

"I know it seems ludicrous, but I assure you, neither young man has them. Somehow, their hampers have dissolved."

Sirius leapt to his feet.

"But that's impossible! Every witch and wizard is born with hampers. Control over our magic is impossible without them! Without the hampers, our magic would eat us alive!"

"Don't tell me what is and is not possible, Sirius Black." Poppy snapped irritably. "I performed the test. Harry Potter and Tom Riddle are without magical hampers."

"Why'd you perform the test?" Remus asked quizzically. "I thought it was only performed on babies?"

Poppy sighed. "Yes, that is what it's intended for. However, something I noticed while examining them prompted me to test them. Follow me."

She led the group of adults around the curtain that concealed her patients. She stopped beside the second-to-last bed. Lying upon it, his face serene, was Harry Potter.

"Touch him." She ordered.

The others looked confused, but they obeyed. Upon laying their hands on the boy, they gasped. Magic- powerful, wild, and untamed- pulsated underneath his skin. It thrummed and rippled, as if eagerly attempting to escape its fleshy constraints.

"Mr. Riddle is the same. But that's not all- look." Madame Pomfrey moved briskly to the other side of the bed, raising Harry's left arm for them all to examine. It was handcuff-free. The onlookers gasped.

"Whatever happened in that room not only dissolved these two boys' hampers, it also completely disintegrated these handcuffs. What I don't understand is why the hampers and the handcuffs were the only things to be destroyed. Aside from the force of the blast knocking the children into the walls, everything inside the room was relatively unharmed. It makes no sense."

Dumbledore frowned. "That is certainly something to ponder Poppy, but at the moment I am more worried about how this will affect young misters Potter and Riddle."

She sighed. "I'm afraid that the amount of magic these two boys have is unfathomable. Even without the hampers, most magical beings wouldn't have magic running rampant through their bodies to the degree these boys do."

Sirius interrupted. "So, what will happen?"

Poppy glanced at him in irritation, "I can't be sure. The only cases of witches and wizards not having hampers ever recorded have been in children. Newborn babies."

Sirius broke in again. "What happened to them?"

Poppy glared at him. "If you would let me continue… They simply had their magic siphoned off-"

"But that's impossible!" Sirius exclaimed. "You can't steal a witch or wizards magic! It can be drained by excessive use, but it can't be taken away!"

Poppy rounded on him. "Sirius Black, if you interrupt me one more time, I will personally slice you up and give you to Severus for potions ingredients!"

Snape smirked.

Calming down, Poppy continued. "As I was _saying_, this was possible because the purpose of hampers is to keep magic inside a witch or wizard, and in control. Without the hampers, there is nothing to stop an outside force from removing the witch or wizards magic, making them a squib. _However_-" she said, stopping the onslaught of suggestions, "Misters Riddle and Potter simply have too much magic for us to remove. I don't know how, but they have so much that none of us would be able to hold it. Any object we could use to hold their magic would likely be ripped to shreds."

"So what do we do?" Sirius asked, once positive that Poppy was done speaking.

Dumbledore gazed at the two teens pensively. "I suppose we'll have to try teaching them to control their magic-"

Poppy cut in. "We can't. If they try to use their magic…" She trailed off.

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted.

She took a deep breath. "If they attempt to use their magic, I believe that it will escape their bodies, and we won't be able to stop it."

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "Are you saying…?"

She nodded. "Yes. If either of these boys uses their magic, it will likely rip them and everything around them apart."

* * *

A/N: Dun, dun, dun. Review please!


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